So Far Away from Me
by monroeslittle
Summary: Finn and Rachel face the uphill battle called long distance.
1. Chapter 1

_"Here I am again in this mean old town,_

_And you're so far away from me _

_And where are you when the sun goes down? _

_You're so far away from me._

_So far away from me,_

_So far I just can't see,_

_So far away from me._

_You're so far away from me._

_I'm tired of being in love and being all alone._

_When you're so far away from me._

_I'm tired of making out on the telephone,_

_'Cause you're so far away from me."_

_

* * *

_

_::freshmen year::_

_

* * *

_

College is awesome.

Rachel has to leave for NYU before he has to go to Ohio State, so he takes her to the airport with her dads. She makes a big, dramatic scene, crying and clinging to him and making him promise he won't forget her when he's surrounded by blonde Ohio State cheerleaders. He's sort of amused by her antics, at how very _Rachel_ she is and how little this part of her has changed in the years he's known her. (But he makes sure his smile doesn't show.)

He patiently promises everything she asks and then he bravely kisses her in front of her dads.

But when he actually gets back to his house, he feels kinda freaked. Rachel is on a plane to New York — until _Thanksgiving_. That's months from now, and months is a long time. He hasn't gone that long without seeing Rachel since, like, he _met_ her. Before he can really freak out, though, he's hugging his sobbing mom goodbye, 'cause he's on his way to college, too.

And, seriously, college is _awesome._

His room is tiny, but his roommate, Billy, is on the football team with Finn, and he's a pretty cool dude. There's a vending machine, like, ten feet from his room, and it always has all sorts of chips and chocolate bars. And he can eat as much as he wants in the cafeteria, too. His mom's a good cook, sure, but this is pretty much the best food _ever_, and he can have as much of it as he wants every time he swipes his meal card.

Football practice is hard, but all the guys are great. They take all the freshmen out to bars after their first practice, somehow get them drinks with no questions asked, and when Finn gets so drunk he agrees to do karaoke with Billy, all the boys cheer him on. He's totally _cool_ again.

Classes are kinda hard, but the football team pays for tutors, and they're pretty good. They're better than Rachel had been in high school, actually, probably 'cause he doesn't always start making out with them when he gets sick of hearing about Spanish or physics or some dead poet.

He talks to Rachel every night on Skype, He isn't sure she hears a single thing he says, because she's too busy gushing about how _spectacular_ New York City is, but he doesn't mind. He's happy and she's happy and that's what counts, right? He knows everybody doubts that he and Rachel can make it in colleges across the country from each other, but so far it's totally working.

* * *

Rachel gives him a picture of the two of them framed in a glittery pink _thing_, and he promises he'll put it right by his bed. He doesn't. There's no way he'll be caught dead with that frame anywhere anybody can see it. He's so _not_ gonna commit social suicide before the year's even really begun.

(It's not like _she'll_ know if it's shoved in the back of his dresser.)

But he finds an old picture of them from one of his football games junior year, one where she's wearing a jersey with his number on it and he doesn't look like a complete dork, and he tacks the photo up on his bulletin board. "Who's the chick?" Billy asks later that night.

"My girlfriend," Finn says, adding proudly, "she goes to NYU."

"Cool," Billy says.

Yeah. It is cool.

* * *

He does miss her.

He misses all of them. He misses having Puck around to make stupid comments. He misses Artie's jokes. Hell, he even kind of misses Kurt and watching American Idol with him. He misses Glee, and singing with a group of people who love it as much as he does. But he misses Rachel most, 'cause he's used to having her around all the time, and now that she's not it's just _weird_.

He's sitting in class and he hears some girl talking about how great _High School Musical_ is. He chuckles when he thinks of the rants that Rachel likes to give about the musical that "denigrates the musical community beyond all imagination and ought to be blacklisted from film and stage!" His mind jumps to when he'll see Rachel next to tell her about the girl rhapsodising over what a great voice Zac Efron has — in between classes? third period? lunch? — before he realises that he's being totally stupid.

They're not in high school anymore, dumbass.

He'll tell her on Skype, he assures himself. He forgets to, though, and as he lies in bed after and remembers, he feels it suddenly: the _pang_. He misses her. It's different than when she was with Jesse and he missed her friendship and her affection and that way she used to look at him. He's not sure what this is like. He's never felt it before.

He just knows it sucks.

* * *

He and Billy go to a big house party a few miles off campus.

It's full of football players, everybody hails them the moment he and Billy walk in, and Finn can't remember the last time he went to a party and actually liked it this much. He does some shots, and his teammates pound him on the back and chant his name and it's so _boss_.

(That's a word Billy uses a lot. Finn really likes it, so he's started using it, too.)

When he starts to get really drunk, he finds himself singing, but he's too messed up to care. And besides, he's not too messed up to recognise that their laughter is the good kind — which _rocks_. "The boy can sing!" shouts Eric, the linebacker who sits with Finn in geology. He's drunk, too. They're all drunk.

"Whoa, there," says a girl, and Finn starts apologising profusely. He's an oaf. He nearly splashed his drink all over her. But she seems slightly amused by him. She's kind of cute, but she's like 5'7, which is freakishly tall. "Don't worry," she says, "no harm, no foul. You're the football player that can sing, right?"

"That's me!" he trills.

She giggles. "You're cute. And I heard you earlier. You're good, even drunk."

"Thanks!" He grins at her.

It's an awesome night.

He only vaguely remembers the car ride back to campus with Billy ralphing into a paper bag, and his memories of stumbling over Billy in their attempt to get to their dorm room are even fuzzier. When he wakes up the next morning, his head is pounding, he's got some gross stain on his shirt, and Billy's lamp is broken. He glances over at Billy, whose popping advil and glaring accusingly at the window and the bright sunlight it lets in.

But Finn doesn't really feel that bad until he sees a number written on his hand and the name _Lizzie _written in thick black pen.

That's so _not_ boss.

* * *

"I really miss you, Rach," he admits. It's been almost a month.

On the computer screen, her face softens. "I miss you, too, Finn — so much." Tears start to well in her eyes. "It's hard," she whispers, "being in New York all by myself. I mean, I've made a few friends, and they all appreciate my star talent, but my roomamte, she's _awful_, and I miss my dads, and, Finn, I _really_ miss you."

Before he knows what's happening, she's sobbing, and it sucks that he can't reach out and rub her back or kiss her forehead or squeeze her hand and just make her _stop crying_. Finn can't handle any crying girl, let alone a crying Rachel, which is, like, three hundred times worse.

"Don't cry, babe," he says, trying to sound soothing. "Thanksgiving's not that far away."

"Promise me," she tells him, "promise me that nothing will change between us. Promise me that we'll become the couple everyone thinks of when they hear that trite old phrase that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Promise me that we won't fall prey to out of sight, out of mind. _Promise _me, Finn!"

He's not sure he actually knows what she just said, but he'll promise her anything at this point. "I promise, Rach."

"Promise you'll love me forever!" she demands tearfully, nearly wailing.

"I promise!" he assures, so glad that Billy isn't in the room. "I'll love you forever, baby, I _promise_."

She eventually calms down, and a few minutes later, they end the video feed. He closes his computer slowly. He spent nearly an hour talking down a hysterical Rachel and assuring her that he misses her and loves her and _of_ _course_ he has the framed photo of them by his bed.

And it's kinda made him miss her more.

* * *

He keeps partying, but he tries to tamper the drinking.

He doesn't do _too_ many shots, and he brings a bag of pretzels to eat between drinks, 'cause he swore to Rachel he would. He doesn't ever want to leave with another number on his hand, so he makes sure to tell all the girls he talks to at the parties about Rachel, his awesome girlfriend who's totally gonna be famous 'cause she's a great singer. He tells them that she's really smart, too, and really hot, and she loves argyle.

And, it turns out, raving about how great your girlfriend is when you're drunk totally make girls think you're sweet and adorable. They tell him he is, anyway. After every party, he finds he's friends with a dozen more girls, until it's like he knows every girl on campus. They tell him he's good to _talk_ to, which he wouldn't have liked in high school, but it's totally cool now. It's kind of nice to be able to talk about Rachel and how much he misses her with a bunch of sympathetic girls.

And when his teammates figure out that Finn's, like, a lady expert, they all want him to help hook them up with girls, and it's so _awesome_. He tells Rachel the truth: that he has lots of friends and a lot are girls, but she's the only girl for him. He can happily say that she never overreacts or anything (well, not a lot, anyway).

High school was so full of drama for them it's like they get a free pass for college.

It's hard, though, being friends with so many girls when _his_ girl is half way across the country. It's not that he's tempted to cheat on Rachel. He'd _never_ do that. And even if he were a douche like that, he just isn't _interested_ in any of these girls. They're all cool and stuff, but they're not _Rachel_.

The problem's just that he misses her. Skype isn't enough. He feels like a pussy saying that, though, saying that he misses singing with her and her girly smell and the feel of her small hand in his. But he does, he can't deny it.

And, seriously, his hand's gonna fall off if he jerks off anymore.

* * *

Two months into school, they win a huge game. Finn's so excited that he breaks his own carefully laid out rules for partying, and at Marty, Rob, and Jimmy's apartment, he gets totally trashed. He blacks out.

When he wakes up, he doesn't remember a thing, but he's in his room, so that's something. And then he gets a package. There are little gold stars all over the address label, and that's all the identification he needs. He tears it opens and his thudding headache recedes to the background as he realises that, according to the long letter on her pink cat stationary, she's sent him a care package.

Everything is packed securely in pink tissue paper, and Finn quickly covers the room in it as he unearths his goodies. There's all sorts of candy, like Snickers and Twizlers and jelly beans and milk duds. There's a pack of highlighters in really cool colours, a poster of Kiss that she thought he'd like, a watch she bought _from an actual New York vendor, Finn!_ and a recording of her practising her solo in the NYU fall musical.

When Billy comes in, Finn is almost done with his second box of milk duds. "What fuzzy pink monster blew up in here?" Billy asks.

"Rachel sent me a care package," Finn explains. "Twizler?"

Billy grins. "Rachel, huh?" he says. There's something wrong with his voice.

Finn glances up at him. "Yeah," he says slowly, "you know, my girlfriend?"

"Oh, I know," he replies, "the one with the really great ass, who makes all those sexy breathy noises when you're having sex, right?"

Finn chokes on his milk dud. "What?" he sputters.

"You don't remember last night at all, do you, dude?" Billy chuckles as he pulls a coke from the fridge and plops down on his bed.

"What happened?" Finn asks, swallowing thickly. "What did I do?"

"It wasn't so much what you did as what you _said_."

"What did I _say_?"

"A lot about Rachel Barbara Berry, and how she's awesome and hot and you totally miss having sex with her. You were kinda graphic, man."

_Fuck. _Finn groans and falls back on his bed. Billy seems to grow sympathetic. "Don't worry about it, dude. You were plastered. It could have been worse. You could have pissed on a police car, like Kevin Weiss. Or pantsed yourself and starting dancing half-naked on the pool table, like Bobby Craft."

That really doesn't make Finn feel any better. "How many people heard?" he asks.

"I don't know — like, everybody? Dude, seriously, everybody loves you. Nobody cares. Besides, it's not like you _insulted_ her. I'm pretty sure half the guys in this school totally want to get with her now —"

"That's _not_ a good thing," Finn growls.

Billy only laughs.

"I am _never_ drinking again!" Finn declares.

"Yeah," says Billy, "good luck with that."

* * *

Finn feels bad about saying all that stuff about Rachel in front of everyone.

He's so _not_ that guy, the one who brags about sex to his buddies, especially not about sex with his _girlfriend. _And it wasn't bragging, exactly, but. . . .

He almost takes out the girly picture frame of them to make up for it. But he decides it wasn't _that_ bad, and he'll just make sure Rachel never finds out. It's not like she goes to this school, anyway. He calls her, though, and he asks her lots of questions about her upcoming musical and lets her gush on for hours, and he thanks her again and again for the care package.

"I'm glad you liked it," Rachel tells him.

"I loved it, Rach," he says. "And I love you. You — you know that, right?" _Even if I act like a jerk, I still love you, you know that, right?_

It's quiet. "I know, Finn. I love you, too."

* * *

Who's bright idea was it for him to take Intro to Shakespeare, anyway?

He's pretty sure Rachel's the culprit, and he tells her as much. She's smart, and she _so_ should have known that Finn Hudson and Shakespeare would _not_ mix. He doesn't even get what Sparknotes says! Rachel, however, doesn't seem nearly as upset about this as she should be. "Think of it like this," she says cheerily on the phone, "now you can say with complete certainty that you do _not_ want to be an English major!"

"Sorry, babe," he replies, "but I could have told you that _before_ The Class From Hell."

"Don't be so dramatic," she tells him.

"Yeah," he says, "because _I'm_ the person in this relationship who needs to work on that."

"Oh, go read Shakespeare."

"Can't. It's in another language. Guess you'll just have to entertain me for the rest of the afternoon."

* * *

Thanksgiving break kind of sneaks up on him.

At the airport, so does she.

He's a big dude, and Rachel's tiny, but she still manages to knock his breath away when she pounces on him. For a moment he doesn't know what to say or to do or even to think, and he just stands there flailing. But he quickly realises that Rachel has her legs around his waist and is peppering his face with kisses, and _fuck yes_.

He kisses her, his tongue greedily plunging into her mouth as he clutches her tightly to him.

When they finally break apart, she starts talking a mile a minute, and he just stares at her, her voice washing over him with a familiarity that feels all warm and fuzzy and just _good_. Her hair's a little longer, but not much else is different. Her shirt has two kissing bunnies on it. _God,_ he's missed her.

"— Don't you think?" she asks eagerly.

What? "Totally."

She gives an exasperated sigh. "Finn, did you listen to a _single_ word I just said?"

"Um, yeah?" He doesn't even really try to lie. And she doesn't even really care, apparently.

She only giggles, and he's positive she's got the same jumpy, giddy feeling he has right now. How can she not? This is, like, the best day ever, right up there with that first awkward time they had sex and when they finally won nationals senior year.

"C'mon," he says, taking her tiny hand, and they leave the airport. He drives with his left hand, because she won't let go of his right hand. She jabbers away, her fingers idly playing with his. At the stoplight on main street, he glances over at her, and she pauses in her rant about how her roommate is like the second coming of Sue Sylvester. "I really missed you," he says.

He's kind of got one thing on his mind, and he's pretty sure she's thinking about it, too. "Rach, right or left?" The soft question makes him feel like a charmer from a movie. If he turns right, it's only five minutes to her house. But if he turns left, they can go up to Crater Lake, which'll totally be empty at this time of year.

Rachel bites her lip. "Left," she whispers.

_YES!_

So, yeah, he knows she had to talk her dads into letting Finn pick her up from the airport, and he knows they've missed her too and he should drive her home to see them. But she doesn't want him to take her home right away any more than he does. And if she doesn't care that it's two in the afternoon and that, even empty, the parking lot of Crater Lake is still a public place, then he sure as hell doesn't care.

She's climbing into the back seat before he even puts the car in park, and he follows quickly. He bangs his elbow on the window, his coat gets caught on the passenger seat headrest, and he might have broken his belt buckle in his eagerness to tear it off. He doesn't care.

In the end, he doesn't even manage to take off her kissing bunnies shirt.

There's lots of too quick, too wet kisses and knocking limbs and awkward shifting, and she gets so frustrated with his fumbled attempts to open the condom wrapper that she takes it from him and rips it open with her teeth. But eventually — like, after three minutes that feel like fifteen — she's wiggled out of her underwear and he's tugged his jeans and boxers down far enough, and he can _finally_ sink into Rachel Berry for the first time in _forever_.

Afterward, when they're back on the road, she takes his right hand captive again.

* * *

Thanksgiving break flies by far too quickly, but there's only a few weeks left of first semester after that, and he can barely process that Thanksgiving break has ended before he's suddenly taking exams and then returning home for a whole month off.

(He scarcely even has time to miss Rachel. He finds the time, though.)

And Thanksgiving's great, but winter break is the _bomb_.

His mom makes all these really cool cookies that she only makes around Christmas, all the old members of Glee meet up a few times, and he and Rachel spend every spare moment together. It's almost like that first summer they were together, when they always found a way simply to _be_ together, even if they were mostly doing nothing.

They sit on her couch and watch _Funny Girl_. They go to the batting cages with Puck, Quinn, Tina, and Mike, and Rachel even gets a little tipsy on the Natty Lite that Puck brings. They make s'mores in the microwave. They lie on his tiny bed and listen to music with one set of earbuds between them. When he has to shovel snow off the driveway, she sits on the front steps all bundled up in her pink parka and reads some really big book. When she has to run errands for her dads, he trails after her from shop to shop.

He misses a lot of college. He misses the vending machine down the hall, and he misses his football buddies and Billy. He misses the parties and he misses the freedom. But Rachel kind of makes up for all of that, and he does _not_ want to have to go back to stupid classes with stupid homework.

It comes eventually, though, and he finds leaving Rachel after he's got used to being with her all the time again sucks a lot more than he'd thought it would.

* * *

Veronica Hewitt waves at Finn as she passes him by, and he smiles at her.

"Now _there_'s a nice rack," Eric says, grinning wolfishly.

"Dude," says Steve, looking at Finn, "you should totally get with that."

He's taken aback. "Why me?"

"Come on, man, she practically fucked you with her eyes."

"She can fuck me any which way any time," Bobby says, and Eric nods.

"Yeah, well," Finn says uncomfortably, "I've got a girlfriend."

"So?" asks Steve. "She's not here, is she? It's not like she'll ever know."

Fin decides maybe he doesn't like Steve too much. After lunch, he has two hours before his next class. He calls Rachel, and before he knows what he's doing, he asks her to sing something. "Anything," he says, "I just miss listening to you sing."

She's pleased, he can tell, and she sings him a song from _Sound of Music._ It makes him happier than something like that should, and he knows he's totally not a normal teenage boy, but he can't help it. There's something about the sound of Rachel singing that just _gets_ to him.

"I really miss you," he admits quietly.

He's pretty sure Veronica Hewitt can't sing. And Steve Black sure as hell can't. _Jackass_.

* * *

He's walking to class with Kevin one day when he sees them.

They're sitting at that little cafe with the really ballin' muffins that have huge chocolate chunks in them. They're a really old couple, and the woman is yelling at a waitress while the man quietly eats his eggs. He's wearing this bright red sweater with a teddy bear in overalls stitched onto the chest. All of a sudden the woman starts yelling at the old man, saying exasperatedly, "_Harold_!" and something about cholesterol and eggs.

She takes his eggs away and puts grapes in front of him, and he quietly starts to eat those.

Kevin follows Finn's gaze. "That's kind of pathetic," he says. "Poor dude. C'mon."

"It's not pathetic," Finn defends. "He loves her."

Kevin gives him a funny look and Finn wishes he hadn't said it. "Whatever, man," Kevin says. "Let's go."

They leave, but when Finn glances back, he sees the little old man lean forward and press a kiss to the little old lady's wrinkly cheek. She turns pink.

* * *

It's actually Billy who wakes Finn up.

"Dude," he groans, and a pillow smacks Finn in the face. "Make the fucking thing shut the fucking fuck up!"

Finn groggily realises that his phone is going off. He picks it up, squints at the bright screen, and sees that it's Rachel. "Rach?" he answers sleepily.

"I've been _sexiled_!" she wails.

He frowns. "What about sex? Sex? Rachel, what —?" He sits up, not sure what's going on. He can barely think straight. What time is it, anyway?

"I was out late with my study group and I came back and my asinine, anorexic _roommate _has locked the door and I can _hear_ her, Finn, I can _hear_ her having sex!" she exclaims.

_Oh_, he thinks stupidly. It's her roommate who's having sex, not her. He feels relief, and then he feels like a douche. Rachel only goes on, however. "She's _sexiled_ me! What am I supposed to do? All my friends are from the musical; none of them live in my dorm. I can't traipse across campus at one in the morning to stay with them! I might have a rape whistle, but I'm not going to risk that!" Her voice is shrill.

"Yeah, no, definitely don't do that," he says, kind of wanting to kill her roommate.

"I swear, Finn," she says furiously, "when you come to visit me, we are going to sexile her — for hours! All night long!"

He grins into his dark dorm room despite himself. "Whatever you want, babe."

"What am I going to do?" she asks.

"Go to the lounge or something. Is there a couch there you can sleep on?"

"Yes, but how _humiliating! _What if someone finds me? And my teeth feel mossy. I haven't brushed in over _eight_ hours! I just want to curl up in my _own_ bed, with my pyjamas and freshly cleaned teeth, and —" She let out a long sigh. "I wish you were here, Finn."

"Me, too," he says. He lies back on his pillows. "No, I wish you were _here_. There's plenty of room in my bed." There must be something suggestive in his voice, because she giggles a little.

"You know what?" she asks suddenly. "I'm Rachel Barbara Berry."

"Um, I know?"

"I'm _Rachel Barbara Berry_," she repeats, and she has _that_ voice. He smiles a little to himself. "And I will _not_ be locked out of my own room by that vacuous _cow_!" She begins to rant and to rave against her roommate, something that's become a favourite pastime of hers in the last several months.

"That's right, baby," he adds, sort of-maybe-actually having a little fun egging her on."Yeah. Yeah, you do that."

He hears pounding and the sound of her shouting. "Open this door _right this instant_, Jackie! If you would like to have sexual intercourse, do it on your own time! You've been in there long enough! I've met that boy of yours and I'm fully aware that he cannot possibly have _that_ much stamina!"

Finn laughs so hard he starts to cry.

"Open up this door, Jacqueline Moiser, or I'll call the fire department to break in! Don't think I won't!"

There's more shouting, someone else's voice, and Rachel says quickly, "I'll call you back tomorrow, Finn!" and he doesn't even have time to say goodbye before she hangs up. He stares up at his ceiling through the dark. He sighs.

He hadn't thought it possible, but he actually misses her more.

* * *

He gets used to it.

He doesn't grow to _like_ it or anything like that, but he "becomes accustomed" (that's what Rachel says) to taking classes and going to parties and living at Ohio State while his girlfriend is in New York, showing all those theatre people how it's really done.

He misses Rachel, sure, probably more than is healthy, but he can't see her all day every day like in high school. Like, it sucks that he doesn't see her all the time, but that's just the way it is now. He still talks to her every night.

College is different from high school, but they make it work.

* * *

Rachel's Spring Break is the week before his, and they plan it all out.

She'll spend the first few days of her break with her dads and then the rest of the week with Finn. When her break ends and his begins, he'll go to NYU with her for a few days and return in time to visit Lima and see his mom before he returns to school. It's perfect. And this time when he meets up with her, he sees her first. He wraps his arms around her from behind, she gives this really cute squeal, and before she can say a word he spins her around and kisses her.

He can't wait to show the campus to her, and to show her to the campus. Like, he wants everybody to meet her. He wants Billy to meet her, and Jack and Eric and Kevin and Mary Alice and Lydia, too. He loves this school, this whole campus and all his friends, and he wants Rachel to see it all and love it, too. Billy totally makes a good impression, and Finn knows from her expression in their first conversation that his roommate has her seal of approval.

She likes all of his friends, really, and they all like her, too. Eric gives him a big thumbs-up when he first meets her. Kevin gets into a long conversation with her about Nancy Reagan, who Finn is pretty sure is a politician or something. She and Lydia agree with each other over and over again that Streisand's _A Star is Born_ is by far the best of the three versions.

Finn takes her everywhere, showing her his favourite restaurants and the football stadium and _everything_, and it's totally awesome having her there. (He's so proud that she's at NYU, but how cool would it be if she want to Ohio State, too?)

On Friday night, he talks her into going to a party with him. "C'mon, Rach," he wheedles. "You wanted to know about my life at Ohio State, right? I go out to parties. It's not like in high school. It's really fun, I promise. _Please_, baby?"

She gives in eventually.

By the end of the night, he really wishes she hadn't.

He doesn't know how it happens, but it does. She spends hours getting ready, and when they arrive she doesn't want to leave his side, which he actually kind of likes. He keeps an arm around her shoulders, 'cause she's his girl and everybody should know it, and he lets her take sips of his beer. But then she wants to go to the bathroom, and there's a game of beer pong, and he loses track of her, and . . .

. . . And before he knows it, Mary Alice has him cornered against the wall near the stairs and is saying all this stuff about knee socks and grandmothers and _you know you want to_ and then she's kissing him. Like, she leans up and plants a big wet one right on his lips. He's frozen in shock. He doesn't know what to do. And it's totally weird, 'cause he hasn't kissed anybody but Rachel in _years_, so it's just . . . _weird._

She pulls away and looks up at him with a bold gaze.

But his eyes fall on Rachel, standing a few feet and looking as if she were just slushied. His mouth goes dry. _Shit_. He can't even finish saying her name before she's gone, and he wonders how something stupid from a bad rom com movie actually managed to crawl into his life and fuck it up this much.

* * *

He pushes his way out of the party, and the onslaught of fresh air after the stale smell of smoke and beer and people disorients him. "Rachel!" he shouts. He doesn't see her anywhere. He feels a hand on his arm and he spins around in relief, an explanation already on his tongue, when he sees it's Mary Alice.

"Not now," he says. "I gotta find Rachel. I can't believe she saw that."

"Maybe it's easier this way," Mary Alice suggests softly. "Now you don't have to worry about, you know, having the whole long, painful conversation with her."

He frowns at her. "What?" He really wishes he hadn't had that fifth beer.

"Finn, come on," she says, as if he should know what she's talking about. "Nobody actually ends up with the person they date in high school." She waits, but he doesn't say anything. "Look, all year long you've been the model boyfriend, always spewing on about your hot, talented girlfriend in New York and not even noticing the way girls _throw_ themselves at you."

"I don't —"

"And that's really loyal and great of you, and it just proves that you're a great guy. But _come on_, Finn. It's not like you have some epic romance with her. First of all, it's impossible to have an epic romance when you're not even legal yet. And you two have nothing in common. I mean, _look_ at her." She stares imploringly at him.

He's pretty sure she just insulted Rachel. "Mary Alice," he says, because he has to make this clear even if he's drunk, "Rachel's my _girlfriend_."

"Oh, come on, Finn!"

"Stop saying that," he says. She's starting to piss him off. Where does she get off talking down to him? And insulting Rachel? And _kissing_ him?

"Just because she was your first love or whatever and you were two totally cute teenagers, doesn't mean you're supposed to pine for each other all throughout college and then end up married and with babies. I mean, do you really want that? Do you _really_ want to spend the next three years dating someone who's not even in the same state as you? Is she really worth that?"

He stares at her for a long time. He can't deal with this. "I have to find Rachel." He turns away. Where would Rachel go? Back to his dorm? It's his best bet.

"Finn!" she calls.

"You shouldn't have kissed me," he yells. "I have a girlfriend."

* * *

She's at his dorm. She tells him she's sleeping in his bed and he's sleeping on the floor, and he doesn't have the right to argue after he's wasted all her time. "I'll be gone by eight sharp tomorrow," she says.

He argues and pleads and tells her that he's never kissed anybody but her for _years_ and he's been totally faithful and — "And what?" she challenges. "And the _one_ week that I'm visiting you, at the _one_ party I go to, I happen to walk in on the _one_ time this _one_ girl decides to kiss you? _Seriously_, Finn? Do you think I'm that _blind_?"

He keeps on arguing and pleading and telling her that he loves her, but it doesn't do any good.

"I refuse to listen to this anymore," she finally declares. "You've made clear your feelings for me with your actions, Finn, and I don't need to hear your words. My dads booked me a hotel room to stay at while I'm here," she says, "and I think I'll put that room to good use." She picks up her bags — already packed — and leaves, throwing off the hand he reaches out to stop her like it burns.

So much for a free pass from drama in college.

As he lies in bed, he thinks about everything Mary Alice said. Three more years of living in a different state than the girl he's dating _would_ be really hard. Hell, all this shit wouldn't have gone done if they hadn't spent the last year in separate states. And, yeah, they're young, and, yeah_, _he and Rachel are pretty different.

But she _is_ worth it.

Maybe he can't give some big speech about it and he can't, like, compare their love to some flower or something 'cause he's not all good with speeches like Shakespeare. But just 'cause he doesn't know how to _say_ it, doesn't mean he doesn't _feel_ it. He knows he loves her, and that should be enough.

He calls her. She doesn't pick up. He texts her. She doesn't reply. Should he start calling all the nearby hotels, like a guy in a movie? Before he can figure out what to do, though, someone knocks on his door. It's Rachel. "So I don't actually have a hotel room," she says, not meeting his eyes. She's been crying. He's such a dick. "Can I please stay here?" she whispers.

He lets her in. (Like she even has to ask.)

And before she can stop him, he lets it all out. He tells her that she _has_ to believe this really was the first time anything like that had happened because he loves her and the only person he wants to kiss is her, even if it's hard to date in colleges in different states. "Finn," she says, a sad sigh in her voice.

"No, no, _listen_," he insists. "A few months ago, I saw this couple at this cafe, and this dude was wearing this sweater with this bear on it, and it was totally something you'd pick out, and I'm pretty sure his wife picked it out for him, but he wore it 'cause it makes her happy, I think. Okay, what I'm trying to say is that I _get _that. Like — I mean, I want to _be_ like that, Rach. I want to have the guts to do stupid stuff, I mean, not that sweaters with bears are stupid, but I want — I want to be able to make you happy even if other people don't think it's cool, and I know I'm not there yet, but —"

"Finn —"

"— but I'm trying! I mean, I don't even have the balls to put up that picture of us in that frame 'cause it's so girly. But I _want_ to, and if you just stick with me, Rach, I promise I'll get it right in the end. I do stupid shit, like that party — I shouldn't have taken you to that party and I — I love you, and that counts for something, right? We can be like those old people! I'll eat grapes for you, Rachel, you just have to —!"

She cuts him off with a kiss.

Billy gets sexiled.

* * *

In New York on Finn's spring break, Jackie gets sexiled, too.

* * *

His GPA at the end of freshmen year is 2.8.

He's pretty proud of himself.

Rachel is, too. She gives him a picture of the two of him in front of the Statue of Liberty, and it's in a simple black frame. "It's the manliest one _Michael's_ had," she tells him.

He so doesn't deserve her.

(But he's pretty sure he never has.)

**tbc**

* * *

_a/n: If I had any power whatsoever to control my word vomit, this whole story would be one chapter. As it is, however, I can't seem to help myself, so this will have four chapters - one for each year of college. I'll try to post them all within the next week :) Title and lyrics are from Dire Stait's "So Far Away."_


	2. Chapter 2

_a/n_: Sorry this took longer to post than I had said! I kept on changing my mind about the order of events and what I did and didn't want to include. I'm still kind of _meh_ about this chapter. Well, sophomore year of college is pretty boring anyhow, right? And this is something of a filler chapter, a lead-in for junior year (which is angst-tastic, by the way). Anyway, here's part two, and I'll try to post part three more quickly.

* * *

_::sophomore year::_

Finn starts mowing lawns for twenty dollars a pop.

He makes a lot of money, and it's so much better than working at Sheets 'N things. It starts with the little old ladies in his neighbourhood who want to crow over little Finn, all grown up and playing ball for Ohio State, and pretty soon he's doing four or five lawns a day.

When he isn't, he's shooting hoops with Puck, or watching television with Sean, or hanging out downtown with Mike and Artie. And he spends a lot of time with Rachel, but that's a given. He uses his money to get a new TV for his dorm next year, but he also spends lots on really expensive dates with Rachel, and it's totally cool that he can pay, like, twenty five bucks for her to have some funky-looking brown goopy vegan soup.

Her dads want to take Rachel for a two week trip to Italy, and they actually invite Finn to come. He doesn't know what to say, and he's pretty sure his mom can't afford it, but Rachel won't take no for an answer, and _of course _he needn't worry about money 'cause he's a _guest_. That part sort of makes him feel sucky, but he does manage to pay for his own plane ticket.

And Italy is awesome, even if Rachel wakes him up really early every morning so they can go see some really old building or painting or statue. (She also tries to make him learn Italian, which totally doesn't work, but she's cute when she's speaking in an Italian accent.)

The rest of summer slowly smears into long, hot lazy days of hanging out with Glee like they're all still in high school. On Rachel's birthday at the start of August, they all start singing _Don't Stop Believin'_ to her, and she quickly takes the lead part, like they knew she would. The whole restaurant applauds. It's _their_ song, Rachel and Finn's, and the club's, too, and Finn never gets tired of it. And he never gets tired of the summer. He doesn't want it to end.

It does.

But sophomore year is gonna be even better. He just _knows _it.

* * *

Two weeks in, he isn't sure if sophomore year is better, but it's definitely _busier_.

He has, like, _no_ free time.

He already knows all these people, but he keeps meeting _more_ people, and everybody always wants to hang out and do stuff, and he can't say no. And he actually plays in every football game now, and there's practice for hours every day. Classes are harder, too, even though he's still taking lots of intro classes. (Who knew Into to Pottery would be hard?)

Rachel's busy, too, because she joins a choir, and she starts tutoring kids, and she declares her major on, like, the second day of classes. "I want to make the most of my college experience," she says. They still talk, sure, but sometimes they go for days without more than a few texts between them.

He knew it was coming. But it's still hard.

In October, Rachel becomes determined to _make_ time. He goes along with everything she says. Every week he prints off the list of scheduled Skype dates she e-mails him, and he never misses a single one. He's pretty proud of himself — he's totally acting like a good boyfriend should.

Billy says he's whipped, but Finn doesn't care. He knows Billy likes Rachel, anyway.

After surviving a year of it, he and Rachel are pretty boss at this whole long distance college thing.

* * *

Advisor meetings are stupid.

"Hello Finn," she greets, smiling across her desk at him.

"Hey Professor," he says. He sits down uncomfortably, feeling like a giant in the little chair at the little table in the little office. He hates these meetings. He had to go to two last year, and he has to go to at least two this year, too. It sucks. What does he need an advisor for, anyway?

"I haven't seen you since last March. How have you been since then?"

He shrugs. "You know . . . okay."

"Did the semester finish up okay?"

"Yeah."

"How about your summer? Did you do anything fun?" She's being really nice, and he can tell she's trying hard, so he tries, too.

"I, er, started mowing lawns. As a job, I mean. And I went to Italy with my girlfriend and her dads."

"Your girlfriend?" Professor Yates smiles. "Does she go here?"

"No, um, she goes to NYU. She's a theatre major." He pauses. "She's great."

Professor Yates nods. There's an awkward silence. Finn fiddles with a loose string in his trousers. "So," Professor Yates says finally, "let's talk about this semester. How is everything so far? Do you like your classes?"

"Yeah. They're good."

"Any one you like in particular?"

He shrugs again. "Not really."

"That's okay. Sometimes we have to face a boring semester or two. Do you have any idea what you might want to major in, though?" She's only trying to help, he knows, but he really hates that question.

"No," he says.

"Well, what do you like?"

"I like football," he answers — and singing, and food, and Rachel. And that's pretty much it.

She smiles. "It's okay, Finn," she tells him, "relax. You've barely begun your sophomore year. Nobody expects you to have your future all planned out. You have until the end of the year to declare a major, and even that's not set in stone."

He nods. "Cool." He grabs for his backpack. This means he can go, right?

"But it's never too early to _think_ about what you might want to do, as a major and later in life."

_Damn_.

"Is there anything you could see yourself doing in ten years?"

"Not really," he says uneasily. She stays silent, obviously waiting for something. "I mean, I guess all I've ever really wanted is to get out of Lima. To not be, you know, a Lima Loser." He sort of mutters it, but he's pretty sure she hears him.

"Well," she says kindly, "you're on the right track. You're at a good school, and you're doing very well."

He's kind of flattered, and he gives a small smile. "Thanks, Professor."

"Sure," she says. "Have a good day, Finn. And if you want to talk about anything, just send me an e-mail or come by." He tells her he will, and as he walks across campus, he can't help but be glad that _someone_ besides Mr. Schue, his mom, and Rachel think he can actually be something more than a Lima Loser.

(Even if he has no idea what that something more entails.)

* * *

It starts when he's drunk. (He should probably stop being drunk so much.)

He doesn't even know what he's done until the next morning. He's still in his boxers and a ratty t-shirt and is groggily checking his e-mail when Billy mentions that text Finn sent him last night. "What text?" Finn asks, frowning.

"You don't remember? You kept texting me about how you love cupcakes. You have the dumbest drunk texts, dude."

Finn grabs his cell and looks at his sent texts. He winces when he sees all the crap he sent people. There's something to Kurt and to Lydia and to Kevin and to like fifteen other people. _Stupid drunk me_, he thinks. Should he send a mass text to everybody saying sorry? He sees he sent something to Rachel. He opens it up hesitantly and nearly drops his phone.

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck!_

_"Hey babe! Miss me? I miss you so much! I wish you were here so I could fuck your tight little pussy."_

He gapes at his phone, looks around the room as if he expects cameras to jump out and tell him it's all a joke, and then glances back at the stupid text he sent Rachel. The stupid _dirty_ text he sent Rachel. He's misspelled some words, and it's not even a _good_ dirty text . . . not that he'd know one if he saw it. Besides, _any_ kind of dirty text is gonna piss Rachel off.

He's pretty sure she's not even a fan of dirty talk in general.

"What's the matter with you?" Billy asks.

"I sent Rachel a drunk text last night," he says.

"So?"

"It's kinda dirty."

Billy grins.

"That's not a good thing, man!" Finn exclaims. "What do I do?"

Billy doesn't have an answer for him.

Finn paces his room for nearly ten minutes. Maybe it didn't go through? Billy asks if he wants to get breakfast, but Finn waves him off. He needs to come up with a game plan, dammit! Two hours later he's still agonising over it, and he's hungry now, too. His phone buzzes suddenly in his hand, and Finn nearly jumps two feet in the air. He looks down at the screen. One new text from Rachel. His heart starts pounding.

Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck!_

He takes a deep breath and presses view. He nearly drops his cell again.

_"I wish I were there, too. I want you to fuck me against the wall. I want to feel you hard and hot, thrusting into me. ;)"_

He stands there for a minute. He's gone hard in his pants, because _holy shit_, Rachel Berry just sent him a dirty text. It's all spelled right and has perfect punctuation and a little winking smiley face, but it's still a _dirty text_. He should reply, shouldn't he? She'll probably freak out if he doesn't (if she isn't already). It takes him ten minutes, and his fingers tremble a little. But no — he can't write that. He quickly deletes it. He takes a deep breath. _Get it together, Hudson_, he couches.

"_What do you want, baby? Do you want me to lick your pussy? Do you want me to finger your ass?"_

He deletes that, too. But then he types it out again. He hits send before he can change his mind. _Shit_. He shouldn't have sent it.

Moments later, she texts him back. He nearly jizzes in his boxers right then and there. He realises with a sudden jolt that he's _sexting_. He's heard Eric say it. _Holy shit_. He's sexting with _Rachel_. And it's freakin' _awesome_. One hands slips into his boxers, even as he starts to reply.

He's really glad Billy isn't there.

* * *

He still goes out to parties, but they're not as boss as last year.

Like, he's still a beer pong champ, and he's pretty killer at flip cup, too, but he doesn't ever really get wasted anymore, 'cause, _come on_, he's not some dumb freshman. He mainly just sits around with Billy and Eric and this new kid who's awesome at _Halo_.

He mentions it to Rachel, and she tells him he's maturing.

Then he feels like he totally _can't_ do something stupid like get wasted, 'cause Rachel thinks he's mature. So he goes to parties, drinks a beer or two, and talks sports and video games with his friends. That's really mature, right?

Either way, he stays cool, and that's pretty sweet, so he's not gonna complain.

* * *

"They went to the same _high school_, Finn!" Rachel raves. "They've been friends since they were younger than us! And Professor Kim says that he's only ever seen somebody with my potential pass through his theatre a few times, and he'll make _sure_ that David Reid comes to the musical."

"That's great, Rach," Finn says.

"An actual _Broadway star_ at _my_ musical! Oh, what if he tells his agent about me? Or his director? Finn, I wish you could be here. The musical's going to be _spectacular!_ Kurt has been helping me practice in the evenings, and this is my _chance_, Finn, I just know it!"

"You're gonna blow 'em out of the water," he says.

For the first time in nearly an hour, she pauses. Her voice goes soft. "I really wish you could be out there in the audience, too," she says softly.

"Me, too," he replies, and he really means it. He misses all sorts of things about Rachel, but never being able to listen to her sing, or watch her on stage, or sing _with_ her — well, it's like, those are the reasons he fell in love with her in the first place. How can he _not_ miss them?

"But your friend Anna is gonna film it all for me, right?" he says. "And we can watch it on Skype together after."

"Yes, of course!" she exclaims, and she's off again, gushing to her heart's content.

* * *

There's this new guy who walks onto the football team, and it turns out he's totally into classic rock. His name's Nick, he's built like the hulk, and he's from a hick town in no where, Ohio, just like Finn. And he can play bass guitar.

When Finn tells him that he plays drums, Nick says they should have jam session.

Finn is determined to make it happen. When it finally does, it's _awesome. _Finn plays his heart out on the drums Andy Gusgow lets him borrow, and he starts to sing, too, and Nick rocks away on the bass, and it's not like Glee, but it's still totally killer. They play the best of Guns 'n Roses, and some ACDC, and even some Poison.

"Dude, we should start a band," Nick says.

It turns out Kevin can play guitar, too, and he's a pretty decent singer (Rachel would have a few critiques for him, but Finn's not gonna tell him that), so they totally start, like, regular practices. They can't agree on a name, so they just become Nick, Finn, and Kevin's band, and they start playing at all the house parties.

It never really goes anywhere, but it's music, and Finn loves it.

* * *

Winter break is as awesome sophomore year as it was freshmen year.

He sleeps in past noon everyday, and he plays video games with Puck and Mike until his mom says his eyes are gonna rot out of his head. He gets to hang with Artie a few times, too, and he even sees Mr. Schue, who's got a _kid_ now. And he gets all these awesome presents, including two seasons of _Funny Guy_ on DVD.

But the best part is Rachel, hands down. They go sledding, and it turns out she's too scared to go by herself, so she rides with him, screaming a lot and hugging him really tightly. They go out on dates, too, just like in the summer. Mainly, though, they just _hang_. And he waits for a few minutes alone.

Like, just a _few_ minutes, _please God_, when his mom isn't in the kitchen banging pots and pans around to remind them that she's there, or her daddy isn't knocking on her bedroom door "just to check in and say hello."

(He knows she's waiting for it, too, 'cause they've come pretty damn close all break, but they so _can't_ get caught with somebody's hand down the other person's pants _again_, or the parents are totally gonna go all apeshit on them.)

Finally, _finally_, the afternoon of New Years Eve, her dads have to go to some lame office party. She texts him the night before. _"House is ours tomorrow after 2:00_." He can barely sleep, and the moment he gets to her house, he's all over her.

She giggles a little at his enthusiasm, but he doesn't care — he grips her ass under her little dress, lifts her so she straddles his waist, and stumbles up the stairs. He falls onto the bed with her, and as she kisses his neck, he works on getting her out of that dress. When he finally does, he goes so hard it's painful. She's not wearing a bra. He stares.

"What? What's the matter?" She's breathless. "I thought you were a man on a mission."

"I just . . . _missed_ them . . . so _much._"

She laughs. "Oh, Finn," she coos, "my boobs missed you, too!" and she tugs him to her for another kiss. He palms her breasts, feels her small hands pulling down his pants, and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. He's not really sure how she does it, 'cause he's kind of a little busy worshipping her boobs, but she gets his pants off, and his boxers, too, and pretty soon she's going down on him.

He loves her. So. _Fucking_. Much.

Before he loses it, he tugs her up. He kisses her, and she makes that awesome mewling sound. It makes his head go all hot and fuzzy, and he presses her into the bed. "C-condom?" she breathes into his neck

"Mmm," he replies, trying to think straight. He brought one, right? Didn't he bring, like, fifteen?

Quick and aggressive, she pushes him over so that she's on top, and she reaches to her desk drawer. He grips her hips and stares up her boobs. _So perfect_. "Got it," she says triumphantly. "And look! They're _berry _flavoured!" She grins delightedly and tears open the wrapper.

He watches her, watches her face, and when he flips her again, as she rolls the condom on him and he settles in between her thighs, the best place _ever_, she has this breathless little smile on her face. It's adorable. _She's _adorable. He pulls back slightly. "Rach," he says, "I . . . I really love you. A lot." She bites her lip, and he grins at the kind of shy pleasure in her gaze. "Okay," he says, "just wanted to say that." And he thrusts inside her.

Her dads don't get home until past 9:00.

It's the greatest day in the history of Lima, Ohio.

So, yeah, Rachel is definitely the best part of break.

* * *

But it's in the middle of winter break that he realises what sucks most about college.

He's in the kitchen, making a PB&J and listening to Rachel rave about her musical and the encore the cast received at the final showing, when she mentions Jill. "Wait, who's Jill?" he asks.

"She's Peter's girlfriend," Rachel answers, and she starts to go on.

"Who's Peter?" Finn frowns, grabbing his sandwich and coming to sit beside her.

"He's the art major who did the background for _Oklahoma_," she says, frowning too, as if he should obviously know this. "He was the _only_ one who listened to _my_ ideas. You remember that, right?"

"Ah, not . . . not really." He racks his brain, but he doesn't even have a fuzzy memory, not even a few words he can recall from a long spiel she gave while he pretended to listen and really just watched television. "Are you sure you told me?"

"I thought I had," she says, and she looks thoughtful. But then she simply shrugs. "Oh, well, I guess I didn't. Oh, Finn, Peter was a lifesaver. See, Cassie — that blonde horror who spent the whole semester making snide comments about how she should have been the lead — said that it was unnecessary to have the background change with the seasons as the play progresses, which is absolutely _preposterous,_ because. . . ."

She goes on, and he nods and tries to keep up. But it bothers him, and it still bothers him hours later when she finally goes home. It's not that weird, he guesses, that he and Rachel no longer tell each other every little thing, 'cause they live in separate states and, hell, it's not like they _need_ to tell each other every little thing.

But he liked how, in high school, there was nothing happening in her life or going through her head that he didn't know. He didn't always like it, sure, but that's 'cause he was a blind douchebag. And once they were dating, well, like, he sort of came to _love_ how much she talked, and how far and intensely she pulled him into her life.

And it sucks that college in separate states makes it so he just _can't_ have that anymore.

* * *

Second semester, he gets a job waiting tables.

It's not like he _wants_ to, but he's long since run out of his summer cash, and his football scholarship doesn't pay for_ everything_. Textbooks are really expensive, and the lady at the bookstore says he can't sell back his books 'cause he's spilled chocolate milkshake all over them. Plus, he wants to get Rachel a really ballin' birthday present.

He doesn't have to spend hours every day at football practice anymore, so he sucks it up and applies all around campus and Columbus, and he gets a job at this diner place with really great fries. (He totally gets to eat them for free, which kind of rocks.)

Between work, classes, Skype dates with Rachel, and hanging out with his friends, Finn doesn't have time to sleep, let alone think about how much he misses his girlfriend.

He still does, though, 'cause that's just the way it is.

* * *

He admits randomly one day that he had been drunk when he sent that first dirty text to her.

"I should have known!" she exclaims, and she sounds more amused than anything else, so he lets out a sigh of relief. "I was so shocked, Finn. I couldn't sleep. But I got up early, and I did all this research —"

"Wait, what? Research?"

"Yes, _research_. It's not like I was an expert in encouraging sexual excitement over a text message, _obviously_. So I looked a few things up on the internet."

He pauses in the middle of getting a pepsi from his tiny dorm fridge. Somehow the image of Rachel sitting in her apartment and using her pink lap top to find out how to send dirty text messages to him turns him on.

"Oh, don't worry," she goes on, "it's not as if I still resort to that. I think I've become rather good at sexting. Don't you agree?" He can almost _hear_ her coy little smile over the phone. "Besides, I think we've moved beyond sex over text message."

No more sexting? No way. "I don't think we have," he says quickly.

She laughs. "Don't you want to try something new?"

"Like?" he asks, half wary, half eager.

"Like phone sex. Is Billy in the room?"

"No," he squeaks.

"Good. Lock the door. Now, I did some research on this too, so I know just how to get us started. Ask me what I'm wearing, Finn."

* * *

Kurt and Rachel become friends. Finn's not really sure how. They bonded over freshmen year alone in New York or something like that, and now they share an apartment with another sophomore at NYU. When they're both home for Spring Break, they bicker with each other like brother and sister, making sniping, snide comments but never seeming very bothered by anything the other says.

Kurt tells her he saw an eighty-five-year-old woman cross the street wearing that same blouse she's wearing now; Rachel asks if he can really hold his head up with that much hair gel in it. And then they both ooh and aah when the commercial break ends and _Dancing with the Stars_ comes back on the TV.

Honestly, Finn's kind of jealous, and he doesn't know if it's of Rachel, who's now suddenly a kind of sibling to Kurt, something Finn's never really been able to become, or of Kurt, who gets to _live_ with Rachel, to see her every day and be involved in every part of her life.

But he has to admit, it's kinda cool, too.

'Cause it makes Rachel happy, and probably Kurt, too, and Finn's not gonna mess with that.

* * *

At Eric's twentieth birthday part, Finn gets a little drunk (it's kind of hard _not_ to, okay?).

That's not so bad, except that he then forgets that he has a Skype date with Rachel. And then he kind of loses track of his phone while playing beer pong, and when Rachel calls, a drunk Lydia picks up and refers to him as Finny. So, yeah, anyone who's met Rachel for, like, five minutes can imagine how _that_ goes down.

She breaks up with him over facebook.

He doesn't know until the next morning, when his facebook news feed tells him that _Rachel Berry is now single_, and it takes him a little while to put the pieces together. He spends all day calling her and texting her and pacing his room, 'cause_ what the hell_?

She finally picks up the phone to yell at him and tell him to stop calling her, and he jumps on his one chance. He interrupts her and tries to say everything he needs to say before she can hang up on him. "I went out to a party last night," he says, "and I got drunk, and I'm a total asshole for forgetting our Skype date, and you should totally be mad at me for that, but I was _not_ fooling around, I swear, so whatever you think happened, didn't happen."

It's silent.

"Rach? Baby? Still there? Look, my friend, Lydia, _you've met her_, she was at the party, too, and she was really drunk, and she loves that my phone plays Journey whenever you call, so she picked it up. But it's not like we were out on a date or _anything _like that." She has to believe him.

"It's not so crazy a thought, you know," she says quietly. "To think that you'd leave me for someone _cooler_. I know you love how you're cool again at Ohio State."

"I love you _more_," he insists. Isn't that obvious? And didn't they get past all this shit in high school? It takes a while, but he talks her down eventually. She brings up the pink picture frame, claims he's ashamed of her, and even starts to cry a little, but he swears his love up and down for her, and it finally works.

She admits, a few days later, why she got as upset at she did.

"I just feel like . . . we're not as close as we were in high school. It's as if we live in separate worlds, as if we're star-crossed loves. I want to play a star-crossed lover on stage, Finn, I don't want to _be_ one. And I know this feeling of emotional distance is part of a long distance relationship, but I still hate it, I still hate that I'm missing out on essential parts of my boyfriend's life."

He's kind of bowled over by the confession.

"Me, too, Rach," he says softly. Because he definitely knows _exactly_ what she's talking about.

She sighs. "But I know you love me, and I promise not to break up with you on facebook again without talking to you first."

"Thanks," he says. "And I promise I'll try really hard not to forget any more Skype dates."

Billy asks if he wants to grab dinner. "Is that Billy?" Rachel asks. "Do you have to go?"

"No. I can talk as long as you can," he says, and he shakes his head at Billy, who nods and leaves.

"I can talk all night," Rachel declares.

Finn smiles a little, knowing he looks like a goof. But, hey, not even Billy's there to see it. "Prove it," he says.

* * *

He e-mails Professor Yates, and she invites him to stop by her office the next day.

"So I think I know what I want to major in," he tells her. "Communications."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

He's pretty sure she's not gonna like that. He knows Rachel didn't; he could just barely hear the trace of disappointment in her voice on the phone last night. "Do you really have a _passion_ for communications, Finn?" He didn't know what to say. He doesn't have a passion for it, no, but that doesn't really matter, does it?

_It's a major for dumb jocks_, he thinks. And Rachel thinks that, too, even if she would never say it. But he's good at those classes, and Billy's a communications major, too. (_And I _am_ a dumb jock_.)

"I think that's a really great idea," Professor Yates says, smiling brightly. "It's always good to choose a useful major. There are so many job opportunities that follow a major like that."

He's surprised, but pleased. "Cool."

She helps him fill out the paperwork.

* * *

His phone goes off in class, which is _really_ embarrassing.

It's his nine 'o clock night class, and it kind of sucks to have a night class, but it's so much better than a class at, like, nine in the _morning_. But, anyway, the muffled sound of Journey singing from his backpack interrupts the professor, and Finn wants to disappear.

He pretends it isn't his. A minute after it finally stops, though, it goes off again. Finn grabs it, turns it to vibrate, and shoots the professor an apologetic look. When he's pretty sure Dr. Moore isn't paying attention to Finn anymore, he risks a glance at the phone. He has two missed calls from Kurt. Seconds later, the phone starts buzzing yet again — and it's Kurt. He frowns. He barely ever talks to Kurt. What's going on?

He texts the other boy. _"Dude, what's up? I'm in class." _He tries really hard to pretend he's listening to Professor Moore drone on about some Greek myth and waits for a reply. It comes almost instantly, and Finn feels the world collapse around him a little as he reads the three words.

_"Rachel got mugged."_

He stands abruptly, disrupting the class once more. "I've got to go," he announces dumbly, and then he grabs his books, shoves them into his backpack, and leaves before anyone can say a word. He calls Kurt as soon as he's out, and Kurt starts talking the moment he answers the phone. "She's okay," he says hurriedly. "She wasn't hurt. She's still talking with the police, though."

"What _happened_?" Finn demands.

"She was coming back from dinner with Anna — they'd gone out to the new Indian place by that shop that sells custom balloons — and some guy pulled a gun on them."

"Let me talk to her," he demands. "Are you there with her? Did they get the jackass?" He can't fire off the questions fast enough. He wants to get on a plane to New York _right now_.

"She's with the police, Finn. I'm sure she'll call you as soon as she's finished talking with them. But she's alright, okay? I promise. And I'm here with her." He's trying to comfort Finn.

But all Finn wants to do is scream _that's not good enough_! Kurt can't protect Rachel, and even if he could, it's not his job. It's Finn's job. He's supposed to be there to beat the shit out of anybody who pulls a gun on her. _Oh, God_. Somebody pulled a _gun_ on Rachel.

And Finn was half way across the country, sitting in class.

He's never felt worse.

* * *

He won't let Kurt hang up. He pelts him with questions, desperate to know everything, desperate to make sense of it all. Kurt can't give many answers, but that doesn't deter Finn.

Kurt's suddenly cut off, and Finn starts to freak, but then Rachel's voice washes over him. He can hear how shaken she is, and he nearly breaks his phone he's holding it so tight when she starts to describe everything, to explain how the man wouldn't let them look at him, and how he made her and Anna lie face down on the pavement when he left. She starts to cry, and she says he took her phone and her wallet and the bracelet Finn bought her for her birthday and —

"I'll buy you another one," he says quickly, "it's okay, baby. It's okay."

He stays on the phone with her until she's in bed and has fallen asleep. He doesn't go to sleep, though. He can't. He wants to buy a plane ticket. He wants to go to New York and crush Rachel to him and make sure she knows that he's _never_ gonna let something like that happen to her again.

But he can't do that.

He can't do anything. And tomorrow another jackass could pull a gun on her, could completely terrify her and leave her shaken, crying, and lying on the pavement of some back street, and Finn wouldn't be able to do a single thing.

He's felt all year as if he's missing out on her life, as if they're chugging along on separate train tracks, and this only _proves_ that they are. He's her boyfriend. _He should have been there_. None of this would have happened if he had been there.

And then he starts to think about if something _worse_ had happened.

What if the guy had tried to hurt her? To rape her? _What if he'd killed her_?

Over the phone, he can hear Rachel breathing slowly and softly in sleep, and he listens to the sound, refusing to hang up, 'cause maybe it will calm him down. But it doesn't. He almost lost her. And he can't lose her. He _can't_.

She's not just his high school sweetheart, or his college girlfriend, or . . . she's _Rachel_. She's a voice that doesn't need a microphone, she's a heart that's way too big for her tiny body, she's exuberance and gold stars and cookies that spell things out when she doesn't know how to say them. And she's become such a big part of his life, such a big part of _him_, that he doesn't know how to be Finn without Rachel.

There isn't a Finn anymore.

There's just Finn and Rachel.

"Finn?" she whispers suddenly, her voice sleepy.

"I'm still here," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

The next morning, she's afraid to leave her apartment.

In a small voice, she asks him to sing something to her, because that always makes her feel better, reminds her that she's loved, gives her courage. He sits up a little straighter in his seat. If his singing really can do all that, then he'll sing until he's hoarse.

He's in the dining hall for breakfast, and when he breaks out in song, everybody looks at him, but he can't be bothered to care_. _He sings _All My Loving_ by the Beatles, and maybe that's cheesy, but he knows the lyrics and they totally fit. She's got all his loving _forever_.

People hoot and clap afterward, but what matters is the soft, whispered thank you she gives him.

He gets it now. He gets that missing her, that being too busy to talk or forgetting a Skype date 'cause he's drunk, that's part of college. And he does like college. There's tons of cool stuff about it. But college'll end, and then he and Rachel'll make up for lost time, and they'll never have to be apart again.

Maybe he already knew that, but now he _really_ knows it. Now he _realises_ he knows it.

He and Rachel are gonna _go the distance._

(That's a play on words. Rachel told him.)

* * *

Summer doesn't take him by surprise.

He's ready for it. He's ready for a break from stupid classes and stupid tests; he's ready for another hot, lazy summer with Rachel and the rest of Glee club. When Burt's car finally pulls into his driveway and Finn is home, he finds Rachel waiting on his front steps, having returned to Lima two days before.

He picks her up and hugs her, burying his face in her hair.

She smells like strawberries and sweetness and _Rachel,_ and he can't get enough of it.

"College rocks, Rach," he tells her, "but you totally rock more."

She laughs.

"I love you, too, Finn."

**tbc**


	3. Chapter 3

_a/n_: So, little warning - this chapter centers on one big event and therefore has a lot more of a concrete plot. Take it as you will. It's also something that's been done in various ways before, but I honestly think, knowing Finn's character, something like this would happen, which is why so many authors address it.

Anyway, this is the first chapter that has what I consider actual angst, but if you're not a fan, just bear with me-senior year is a fluff'splosion. On that note-senior year might take four or five days to post, as I might be posting a random F/R one-shot completely separate from this story in the interim. I have about six different ideas for F/R stories floating in my head, and I have this need to write them all _right now! _It's like a sickness. (Also, on a random note, in case you can't tell by this chapter, I'm all about love for academic advisors ;) I absolutely adore both of mine. So sorry if that seems out of place to you, but I think advisors can really be that helpful!)

And (here's the last of the super-long author's notes) the order of events for football season is a little fudged. My brother explained the basics to me and I kind of . . ., yeah, completely fudged what he said to make it work. Sorry to all sincere college football fans!

* * *

_::junior year::_

_

* * *

_

Two weeks before classes starts, he moves into an off-campus apartment with Billy, Nick, and Eric.

Rachel helps him move in. He carries in all the boxes and his television and stuff, and she carries a lamp, a box of cookies from his mom, and some posters. Once he's got the sheets on his bed and all his crap in his room, he's ready to call it quits. Rachel has other ideas.

She uses her label maker to put his name on just about everything he owns, including his tooth brush, hangs his clothing in his closet by colour, puts little lace things ("_doilies_, Finn") under the tissue box in the living room and the one in the bathroom, and she even sets out a little dish of dead flowers ("_potpourri_, Finn") in the kitchen.

He shrugs it off as he hangs his posters, not really caring one way or the other, but when she's gone, he looks at his labelled toothbrush and the doilies and the potpourri and he misses her more than ever.

* * *

Most of his classes this semester suck.

The only good one is this class on computers, and algorithms and stuff. He took a few last year, and they were pretty awesome, so he's taking another one this year. He tries to talk to Rachel about it, and she never gets it. But it just makes sense to him. It's like math and stuff, but _not_. It's totally cool.

He, Nick, and Kevin still have their band, and they spend a lot of time messing around and making so much noise one of the neighbours files a noise complaint, which is kind of super badass. Football this year rocks, too. They win game after game, and everybody on campus knows his name, and he just loves that feeling.

"It's the feeling of being a star," Rachel tells him. "It's quite addictive, isn't it?" She smiles over Skype, and he feels like she's proud of him. He puffs out his chest.

Junior year is awesome.

* * *

A month into school, Finn watches Lydia toss her beer in Billy's face.

"You want to fuck slutty freshmen girls?" she yells. "Fine! Have fun, pervert!"

Later, when he and Billy have made it back to the apartment, Billy cursing Lydia every step of the way, Finn feels kind of bad for his friend. Everybody saw, which is completely mortifying, plus, like, Finn always thought Billy and Lydia would end up together. "That's junior year for you," Eric says sagely, as if being a senior is so different. "Junior girls getting mad at junior boys 'cause they want to get with freshmen girls."

"It's not like that," Billy protests. "I just don't wanna be tied down, okay? It's _college_. You're not supposed to spend it all with one girl." A moment later, his eyes jump to Finn. "I mean —"

"It's cool," Finn says quickly. There's an awkward pause.

"I can't believe she actually threw her beer in your face!" Eric exclaims suddenly, grinning widely, and Billy glowers at him. Half an hour later, Finn stumbles into bed, thinks about calling Rachel, and decides it's too late.

He knows it's not cool to date one girl for all of college, especially one living in another state, but he doesn't really care. He likes being cool, sure, but it's not worth _that_ much. Besides, he still _is_ cool, and Billy and Eric are totally his best friends, so it's not like they really care.

Anyway, if Billy had to choose between all the freshmen girls he wanted and Rachel, he would probably choose Rachel, 'cause what guy wouldn't?

* * *

Rachel sends lots of care packages.

She only sent a few freshmen year, but ever since that whole disaster with Mary Alice, she's been sending him a lot. (He thinks maybe it's her weird way of marking her territory. Like, any girl who comes in his room is gonna see all these packages that say _hands off_.) She sent a dozen sophomore year, and she's totally gonna pass that number this year. He loves care packages. She sends candy and cookies and magazines and sticky notes and cute little things like teddy bears and stuff.

"I think it's one way I can really show my love for you, Finn," she explains.

He totally agrees and tells her to send more.

* * *

He has to take econ for his major, and it's totally kicking his butt.

He complains to Rachel. "Just get a passing grade," she tells him.

"I can't," he says. "I'm gonna fail."

"With that attitude you will," she replies matter-of-factly. "It's all about the power of positive thinking, Finn. If you believe you can get a passing grade, then you can. You certainly _are_ intelligent enough to pass with flying colours."

And, like always, he's a little flattered that Rachel thinks so much of him, even if he thinks the power of positive thinking is kind of bullshit.

* * *

Over Thanksgiving break, Rachel decides she wants to learn to play video games.

"They're such a big part of your life, and really of most every boy's life," she says. "It's something I can only benefit from experiencing." He sits her down in front of his wii, explains the controller to her, and starts her out on Mario Kart, 'cause that's pretty simple and she'll probably like it.

She's really bad.

But she gets really into it. She jumps all around, moves her whole body in an attempt to steer her kart, and screams a lot. It's adorable. When she gets third in a race, she's so delighted she jumps onto him and kisses him thoroughly. Before he can take advantage of her enthusiasm, however, she's back to the video game and starting another race. "I'm going to get first if it _kills_ me," she declares.

Puck, having arrived to find Rachel there and since been sitting in disgust, tells her she's annoying.

"Your _mom's_ annoying!" she exclaims, then squeals in delight. "I'm such a boy!"

Finn only laughs and nods, and she rewards all his help with praline cookies.

* * *

Lydia's sorority hosts a talent show for charity, and she talks Finn into signing up.

(She just sort of talks and talks and talks until he can't take it anymore and gives in. She totally uses Rachel's greatest weapon against him. Well, okay, the pouty lips thing is Rachel's greatest weapon, but the talking thing is her _second_ greatest weapon.)

When he tells Rachel on the phone, she's super excited, and he can hear her clapping. "I'm so glad to hear this, Finn! You really ought to have more music in your life. Of course, you'll always be my leading man even if you never sing again, but to waste such talent is a crime!"

"It's just a talent show hosted by a sorority."

"Any show is an opportunity!"

He laughs. When Rachel asks to speak to Billy, he's confused, but he hands the phone over. Billy frowns. "Thanks, I think," he say slowly. He snorts. Finn really wishes he knew what they were talking about. He should have made Rachel tell him before he gave Billy the phone.

"I don't own a camera. What? No. Okay. Yeah, yeah, okay. Sure. I _promise_. Yeah, it was nice talking to you, too." He ends the call and looks over at Finn. "She had to go, but she says to tell you goodbye, she loves you, and she's very proud."

Finn rubs the back of his neck, trying not to blush. "What did she say to you?"

"She wants me to film your act at the talent show. She says you have a camera. I tried to tell her no, but she said she'd have you beat me up if I didn't." Finn's alarmed, but Billy starts to grin. "She's totally crazy, dude. But I already knew that. And those cookies she's always sending you are killer."

Finn laughs. Billy's a cool dude. "You don't have to film my act," he assures.

"Are you kidding?" Billy asks. "And have her fly down just to talk me to death? Yeah, dude, no way. I'm totally filming that."

* * *

He and Rachel get in a fight. She says she's the only one who makes any effort to communicate in their relationship. She goes on and on, railing on him, and when he finally gets pissed off — 'cause he has no idea what the _fuck_ brought this on? — it only fires her up more. She finally hangs up on him.

They have a stalemate for two days.

She's the one to break it, and she cries over the phone to him about how she's so stressed because her classes are hard and she hates her co-star in the musical and she just misses him so _much_. He talks with her until she's calmed down.

Then they have really awesome phone sex.

(It's kind of nice to know that she misses him as much as he misses her.)

* * *

He sees Jesse St. James for the first time in four years.

Winter break has barely begun when Finn passes him in the grocery store and does a double take at the exact same time Jesse does. There's an awkward pause. Finn really wishes he hadn't agree to go pick up some eggs and cocoa for his mom. He would have been just fine _never_ seeing Jesse St. Asswipe again.

"Finn Hudson," Jesse finally says. "How you've been?" He smiles that slick smile.

"Hey Jesse," Finn says warily. "I'm great."

"What are you doing now?" Jesse asks. "Working at Sheets 'N Things?"

Finn feels the anger rise instantly in him. "I go to Ohio State, actually."

Jesse nods, and Finn's hands curl into fists. Something about this guy just rubs him the wrong way. "This is actually the first time I've been back in Ohio since I left," Jesse says. "Throughout college my parents came to visit me in California." He pauses. "Have you seen Rachel at all since high school? I was hoping to run into her."

Finn doesn't know if he's being an ass or he if he's actually sincere, but he doesn't care either way. "I'm pretty sure Rachel doesn't want to run into you," Finn says, "you know, considering that time you cracked an egg on her face and officially became the world's biggest douche."

Jesse's smile tightens. "I think I know Rachel a little better than you."

"No," Finn replies, "I'm pretty sure I know my _girlfriend_."

Jesse's raises his eyebrows. "You two are dating?"

"Have been since regionals sophomore year," Finn says smugly. _Four_ _and a half years, fucker. Shove that down your pretty little throat._

"Wow," Jesse says, "I didn't see that coming. I mean, I knew she had a thing for you, but I thought for sure once she got out of McKinley she'd realise you don't have any _actual_ talent." He sneers. "Well, give it time."

Finn really wants to punch Jesse in the face. But Jesse only gives a little wave and turns away, and Finn watches him leave in heated silence. As soon as he drops the groceries off at his house, he drives to Rachel's. He doesn't give her the chance to say hello

He just kisses her, because he can. (And because Jesse is so totally wrong. Right?)

* * *

He has to cut his winter break short. They've got bowl games in January, so he has to return to campus super early. Rachel pouts a lot, but in the end, she sends him off with the firm declaration that, "You have to be willing to make sacrifices for your art."

It happens on a Saturday right after classes have started and Rachel has returned to New York.

He doesn't see it coming. One minute he's watching the football soar through the air in a perfect arch, and he knows Matt will catch it and he's sure the Buckeyes will have the game in the bag, and the next minute, he's watching nothing. When he wakes up, he's in the hospital.

He's pretty sure it's the same story as a lot of guys from Ohio.

The doctors say lots he can't understand, his mom cries a lot, and Burt watches him with sad, knowing eyes. By Saturday night, Finn understands one thing: his knee is shot to hell. That asshole tackled him and cost him bad — Finn Hudson's football career is officially over.

Lying in the hospital, his mind running in circles, he flashes back to high school, and how hard he worked to try to figure out where he belonged. In the end, he kind of just shrugged his shoulders, said to hell with it, and decided he belonged where he was happy. But this is just _different._

Like, in high school it was okay just to like playing football and like singing in Glee and like being himself with a girl who lets him and loves him for it. After all, he was just a kid. But he's not a kid anymore. He's got to _make_ something of himself, and he's got to do it in the next two years before he has to go into the real world.

How's he supposed to do that with a busted knee? How's he supposed to do that when he's just another washed up football player? He's a dumb jock; without the jock part, he's just _dumb_. He thinks of Sean, but Sean has so much more going for him; he always has.

All his friends from Ohio State visit him. Eric even brings beer, which Finn is pretty sure he's not allowed to do. Isn't it, like, illegal to bring beer into a hospital?

Really, Rachel's who he _needs_ to see. She takes a plane down on Sunday, and he lets her fuss over him during the day, and he sobs into her stomach at night. "It's okay," she murmurs, "it's going to be okay." He lets himself believe her for a little while. How can he not? She smells so good, and she's so small and so warm and feels so nice lying beside him in bed.

She talks about rehabilitation, and physical therapy, and she asks all the doctors lots of really good questions that Finn doesn't think of. She uses her I'm-Rachel-Berry-and-I-can-do-anything-I-say-I-can voice as she outlines a plan; she makes everything seem like cake, and he clings to that.

* * *

Everything starts to come tumbling down when he learns that his scholarship will be yanked if he doesn't bring his GPA up.

That's the only way the school lets fucked over athletes keep their scholarships. Rachel isn't fazed by the news. "I'll help you!" she says, but it's harder to take comfort in her words now. It's not like she'll be at the school to help him study every night. She has her own classes to worry about.

He asks her about school, and can she really skip classes like this? She brushes aside his questions, says she's already e-maild her professors, and tells him not to worry. "I'll be here all week," she says, "and next weekend, too." And then he remembers that the coming weekend is the premiere of NYU's winter production of _Spring Awakening. _He asks her about it as she arranges the get well cards in his room. "You've gotta get back for that," he says.

"Don't worry about it," she replies. She smiles. "That's what understudies are for, right?"

He protests. "No, no, seriously," he says. "You don't have to stay here. I mean, I'm really glad you came down, but my mom and Burt are here, and I won't be in the hospital for much longer, and, like, you can't miss out on your musical 'cause of me."

"Don't be silly," she says, resting her hand over his. "You're more important than a musical."

He manages a smile, and she doesn't see past it.

In the end, it doesn't have so much to do with busting his knee, with never being able to play again. All that's just a reminder of what he's somehow managed to avoid thinking about for a few years now. He thinks about his stupid belief that they would be together after college, together forever, and he hates himself for it.

Saying that he doesn't know how to be Finn without Rachel is selfish. Rachel doesn't deserve to have her name tied to his. Especially when it means tying her _down. _He comes to the decision that night.

He has to break up with her.

* * *

He can't do it in person.

Yeah, he's that much of a dick. But it's _for_ her, isn't it?

He waits until she's returned to New York, and then he calls her. He sits in his empty apartment, trembling as he holds his little phone and repeating to himself that he has to do this. She's perky as she greets him and asks how he's feeling, which only makes it worse. So he just lets it rip.

"I wanna break up."

It's silent.

He swallows thickly. "Rach?"

"No," she replies, "I refuse to break up with you." And she hangs up the phone.

He calls. She won't pick up. He wonders if this means they've broken up, and something churns in his gut. Before he can contemplate that it was that simple, she calls him again, and he can't get a word in edgewise as she demands an explanation. He tries his best, but she knows him too well. "Is this about your injury?" she says. "Is this the manifestation of some self-loathing the accident has inspired?"

"Rach, I just . . . long distance is too hard." He cringes at his own words, and then again when she shrilly repeats them. She keeps talking, keeps chewing him out, and he just wants it to be over, but he doesn't, because when it's over they'll be broken up, and _shit_. It's suddenly quiet. "Rachel?"

"If you want to break up with me, then I need a reason."

"I'm . . . I'm not good enough for you. I'll hold you back. I'm probably not going to graduate at this rate, and —"

"_You're not good enough for me_?" Her voice is cold and hard and incredulous. "That's what this is about? You do realise that line is equivalent to _it's not you, it's me_, right? The only person who decides whether or not you're good enough for me is _me_, Finn, and I say you are."

"I'm not," he insists thickly. "You just can't see it. I'm a dumb, useless Lima loser."

"Don't be a victim," she says, and he's kind of startled by it. Rachel rarely speaks that way, speaks _viciously_. "If you want to be good enough for me, Finn, than _be_ good enough for me. Work for it! Prove it to yourself and everybody else! Don't _break_ up with me!"

He hears it, then — the plea that seeps out from behind her sharp reprimands and refusals. It kind of breaks his heart. "You don't get it, Rach," he repeats. Because she _doesn't_. She's always been a star, and she's always known it, no matter what, and she just can't fathom that it isn't like that for everybody.

"I won't allow this, Finn. You've recently been traumatised, and you're letting old fears come to life and overtake you. We're _supposed _to be together, Finn —"

That's when it slips out. "There's someone else."

She takes a sharp breath. "You're making that up," she accuses.

He is. "No. I'm not. I met her at the hospital. Her name's — Amanda. Brown. Amanda Brown. I was just trying to let you down easy. I don't want to do this anymore, Rachel."

The phone clicks. She's hung up. And he sinks down onto his bed, 'cause this time it's for real, he just knows it. Right? He waits for her to call again. He steels himself for it. He makes up imaginary facts about Amanda Brown.

She never does call.

* * *

"Dude, you need to take a shower," Billy says. "You smell like ass."

Finn doesn't respond.

"I'll call your crazy girlfriend and make her yell at you about personal hygiene," Billy threatens.

"We broke up," Finn replies dully, not taking his eyes off the television.

"Dude," Billy murmurs.

He leaves Finn alone.

* * *

A week after the break-up, Eric, Billy, and Nick finally convince him to go out. They take him to Davey Marlow's house party, and everybody there hails him happily. They all want to know how he is, to tell him that they were worried about him, to ply him with drinks and cheer him up.

And he kind of wants to kill them all.

He ends up wasted, but who didn't see that coming?

He calls Rachel, and Kurt picks up. "Hello Finn," he says coolly.

"You're not Rachel!" Finn accuses loudly, pushing his way out of the house and into the back yard, away from the noise of the party.

"Fortunately for me, no, I am not Rachel," Kurt replies. "I have confiscated her phone, however, and am screening her outgoing and incoming phone calls. What do you want, Finn?"

"I don't wanna talk to _you_," Finn says petulantly, kicking at a leaf and missing before stumbling over his own feet. "I wanna talk to Rachel. Put her on the phone. Rachel! Rach! Baby!" He shouts as loudly as she can, 'cause maybe she's nearby and she'll hear him.

"Stop that," Kurt snaps. "You're drunk, and I will not let you take advantage of her only to break her heart again tomorrow morning. You've made your bed, Finn Hudson, now lie in it." He hangs up, but Finn shouts into the phone for another ten minutes.

When Billy finds him, Finn's crying.

* * *

Everybody asks him why.

All his college friends ask, and he brushes them off. "Long distance was too hard," he says, and they all warily accept that. But when Artie asks, when his mom asks, when Puck asks — he can't lie so easily, and they won't take his half-assed excuses.

"I'm not good enough for her!" Finn finally explodes on the phone to Puck.

"You sure as hell aren't now, dumbass," Puck says, his voice low. "You and Berry were a fucking institution. Why the hell'd you mess that up? You could've gotten out of here, man. You could've followed her to New York and _been_ somebody_._ You would have, 'cause Berry would have made you. We both now that girl always gets her way. Now you're just stuck here like the rest of us, another Lima loser, while a bunch of New York pricks fuck your girlfriend."

"Don't say that," Finn breathes.

"Which part? You mean about the New Yorkers bending Berry over backwards and —"

"Stop!" Finn yells.

"Why? You think she's gonna sit around on her ass all day now that you've dumped her?" He pauses. He takes a slow breath. "Dude, just fix it." And he hangs up.

* * *

He didn't think it would be easy, exactly. He knew it would hurt.

He just thought it would be . . . _manageable_, 'cause it's not like he even sees her all that often, anyway. They live in different states, for Christ's sake. But the idea that she's just not his anymore, that he can't ever kiss her again, that he can't share his every thought with her, the very _idea_ tortures him day in and day out.

(He should have seen that coming. God, he lived on those those thoughts freshmen and sophomore year. They were the air he breathed.)

He's always been able to talk on the phone with her, and Skype with her, and see her on holidays, and know that they're gonna be together after college. And now all that's taken from him (and it's his own fucking fault). It sucks worse than he could have ever possibly imagined.

Can he call her? Can he just say he wants to talk to her, even if they're not together anymore? But he can't do that. He's already put her through enough.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. It was actually just another fucked-up mistake.

Story of his life, right?

* * *

Three and a half weeks after Finn breaks up with Rachel, he turns twenty-one.

He isn't interested in celebrating, but Billy, Nick, and Eric recruit half the football team to get him out of the apartment, and they take him out and pound his back as he pounds shots. His speech is slurring after only an hour, and he's got one thing on his mind: Rachel.

"Forget about her," Billy says. "C'mon. We've got just the thing for you, don't we?" Eric roars in agreement, and they steer Finn out of the bar.

They take him to a strip club.

Even drunk, Finn's kinda mortified. He feels like he's doing something wrong if he looks at any of the girls, so he stares at the bar table and eats lots of peanuts, even though Rachel says bar peanuts are unsanitary. Kevin tries to buy him a lap dance, and Finn freaks out.

"Dude, no straight guy in history has ever turned down a lap dance," Kevin tells him. "C'mon. It's on me. Happy Birthday, man."

"I don't care," Finn insists, feeling a little woozy. "You wanna get me a birthday present, get me a lap dance from _Rachel_." He pushes past Kevin and everyone else. Outside the club, he leans against the brick wall. It's cold and dark and he takes a deep breath.

What the hell is he doing? What the hell _has_ he done? Puck was right. So were his mom and Artie and every-fucking-body who's heard about the break-up. He's a dick. And a coward. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to be this guy. He wants to be the guy who dates Rachel. The guy who's good enough for Rachel. She told him to make himself that guy, to prove that he's that guy. She actually believed in him, and he fucking _broke up with her_.

* * *

Professor Yates tries to make small talk, but Finn's just not in the mood. Finally, she gets to the point. "To be honest with you," she says, "I asked you in here today to see how you're coping with your injury."

He shrugs. "I'm fine," Finn says. "Football season's over, anyway."

"You'll never be able to play again, Finn, not even next fall." She stares across the desk at him. He shifts uncomfortably. She sighs. "I'm actually very impressed, Finn. A lot of people in your position wouldn't be able to maintain their grades. But yours have improved. You should be proud."

"Thanks," he mutters. He thinks of Rachel. She'd be super proud of him, too, if she knew. He's been getting, like, _all_ Bs. It's totally a first, and it's blowing him away. But, hell, all he does anymore is mope and study.

"Have you given any more thought to what you might want to do after college?" she asks.

He finally meets her gaze. He thinks about care packages and Lydia throwing her beer in Billy's face. He thinks about made up girls and Kurt hanging up on him. He thinks about Puck and strip clubs and his own dumb insecurities.

"What if . . . what if I what I want to do isn't, like, a thing, but a person? I mean, in a totally _not_ sexual way." When she doesn't say anything, he goes on, not even sure what he's trying to say. "My girlfriend — well, my ex-girlfriend — I broke up with her after I busted my knee. 'Cause I knew I was a loser and she could do so much better, but I think . . . what if what I want to do with my life is be better _for_ her?"

There's a long pause. "Okay," she finally replies. "Here's my question for you. _Why_ is it you want to be better for her?"

"Because I love her," Finn says. Isn't that obvious?

"Why?"

Is she serious? Is this really happening? Is his academic advisor really asking him to explain why he loves Rachel? _Seriously_? He's never really explained it before. Nobody's ever asked him to. "I don't know. She's . . . she can sing so good. So well, I mean. If she were here, she'd correct me."

He smiles a little. "She's so confident and just says what she thinks and wears what she wants and just _goes_ for what she wants. I've always thought that's the coolest thing, you know? And I've always wanted to be like that. Plus, she's pretty much the only person besides my mom who thinks I'm worth something. She actually cares what I think and what I like and . . . I don't know.

"Like, she didn't want me to be a communications major, 'cause she thought there was nothing about it I actually liked or was interested in or anything. And she said I deserved a major I liked."

He feels like an idiot after spewing all that. Professor Yates takes off her glasses and looks at him softly. "Now, I don't know this girl," she says.

"Rachel," he supplies.

She smiles. "Rachel. But it sounds to me like she makes you happy because she believes in you and _she_ wants you to be happy. She wants the best for you, and she thinks you can have it. Is that right?"

"Yeah," he says, "I guess."

"That's a rare thing, Finn. And if she brings out the best in you, then that's more than okay." She pauses. "_Do_ you enjoy communications as a major?"

"Honestly?" he says sheepishly. "No, not really."

"What do you enjoy?"

"Uh, I don't know." He tries to think of something to say. "I liked my computer science class." He actually really likes them. He's taking another one this semester.

"Why don't you be a computer science major, then?"

He thinks about it. He likes the idea. "Yeah," he says, slowly grinning, "I should _totally_ be a computer science major!" Why didn't he think of that?

She chuckles a little. "Why don't you sleep on it and talk to a professor in the department? And then I'll help you with the paperwork if you're still interested, okay?"

He nods. "Thanks for your help, Professor."

"Sure," she says. "And Finn? It's not really my place, but here's my two cents anyway — get her back." She winks and turns to her computer, and he leaves in a kind of daze. He so did _not_ walk into her office expecting all that.

But he sleeps on it — on _all_ of it.

He's gonna be a computer science major. And he's gonna get Rachel back.

* * *

He digs it out from one of the boxes full of crap he shoved in the back of his closet at the beginning of the year. He puts it on his dresser. When Eric comes in to the room to borrow Finn's ipod, he sees it and raises his eyebrows.

"Nice sparkly pink frame, dude," he says. "You're having the sex change, when, exactly?"

"Fuck off," Finn replies, smiling.

* * *

It takes him a long time to work up to it, but he finally manages to do it. He calls Rachel.

He half expects Kurt to pick up. But, no, Kurt can't still be answering her phone. It's been more than a month. The call goes to voicemail. Her chipper voice nearly knocks the breath out of him. "_Hi! You've reached Rachel Berry's voicemail! I'm not able to pick up the phone right now, but leave your name, number, and a brief message, and I'll return your call as soon as possible! Have a wonderful day!" _

He hangs up abruptly. _Dammit_. He probably should have left a message.

He takes a deep breath, calls her again, and listens to the message. When the beep sounds, he starts to ramble. "Hey, Rachel. It's me. It's Finn, I mean. I . . . I just wanted to talk to you. I know you probably don't want to talk to me, 'cause I'm sort of an ass and everything, but I really need to . . . I really _want_ to talk to you. So, yeah, just call me back. Please. Please call me back, Rach."

He thinks maybe he should have planned out a message.

She doesn't call him back that day, or that night, but when he's sitting in class the next morning, he feels his phone buzzing in his pocket. It's her. He tries to leave, but Professor Jackson stops him. Finn wants to say fuck it and just leave anyway, but he doesn't. As soon as class is over, he listens to her message.

_"Hello Finn. This is Rachel. I received your voicemail. I'm not sure what you could possibly have to say, but I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I'm very busy this semester, so if you do not have anything of any consequence to say, please do not call me again."_

He listens to it three times. Her voice is cool and detached. He's so screwed.

* * *

He decides to come up with a plan. It's easier said than done. He's really not a planner. He finally calls Kurt, which he's pretty sure is the only good idea he has. Before his step-brother can chew him out or hang up on him, Finn pours his heart out to him. He begs and pleads and tells Kurt he _needs _Rachel and he made the stupidest mistake.

"She's seeing someone," Kurt says.

The world tilts under Finn. "What?" Who the _fuck_ is touching his girlfriend?

"They've only been out twice," Kurt explains. "I'll admit, I encouraged the first date. I could not _stand_ her old maid routine. But I've decided he's a tool, and his fashion sense is even _worse_ than hers. She's definitely downgraded."

Finn takes a slow breath. "How do I get her back, Kurt?"

Kurt doesn't reply right away. "Do you really mean it?"

"Yes!" Finn exclaims. "I really mean it. I want to be with her for good, man. I'll buy a ring and fucking propose if I have to."

"_Must_ you shout obscenities at me?" Kurt asks, speaking as if he's grown bored with the whole affair. "You need to fly up here, Finn. That's what you need to do. And you need to beg. You need to grovel. This is like our sophomore year of high school all over again. Your life fucks you over, Rachel takes care of you, you get scared, you run away and break her heart, and then you decide you want her back, she finds someone else —"

"I got her back last time."

"You'll run out of chances eventually, Finn." He pauses. He sighs. "Fly up here. It's your best shot."

* * *

First, he talks to his mom. She helps him write the letter. Then he sells his x-box. And, like, all his games. He even sells a couple of his really good baseball cards. It's the only way he can get the money fast enough. He finds a direct flight for that weekend, and Kurt picks him up from the airport on Friday night.

"So," Kurt says, "what's your plan? Did you prepare a song to serenade her with? You know she loves that."

"I did actually think of that!" Finn says proudly. "I was thinking maybe _Hard to Say I'm Sorry_ by Chicago. Or _You're the Inspiration._" He looked at Kurt for approval.

"I'm sure one of those will do," Kurt says.

Finn's never been to Rachel and Kurt's apartment. It's small, and the moment he steps into it he's bombarded by all things Rachel. She's hung up curtains on the window — he remembers when she made them and how proud she was of herself —, there are all sorts of pink throw pillows on the couch, and doilies and potpourri around the room, too.

Finn's barely put down his duffle bag before Rachel comes out of her bedroom. He wants to grab her, to crush her tightly to him, to smell her and to touch her and never go further than five feet from her again. She's wearing a blue dress with all these little flowers on it and a big bow around the waist, and it's so _Rachel_. She's wearing high heels, too, and her hairs done up, and she's putting on earrings as she walks. She's going out, he knows.

"Kurt," she says, "I'm going —" She freezes, her eyes going wide as she stares at Finn.

"Oh," Kurt says, "I forget to mention. Finn will be spending the weekend here."

Rachel just stares. He takes a hesitant step towards her. "Rachel —"

"I have a date," she says. "I'm going out." She straightens slightly. "There's someone else."

He winces at his own words thrown back in his face. He doesn't know what to do. Is it wrong that he kinda just expected her to be thrilled to see him? Yeah, it really is. But he doesn't know what to say. Maybe he should just start talking. Should he whip out the letter right now? "Rachel," he repeats, and he takes another step closer.

Someone knocks on the door.

Rachel swiftly walks past Finn and opens it to reveal a tall, thin boy with curly blonde hair, who smiles broadly and holds out flowers. Finn wants to take those flowers and shove them up the boy's ass. "Hi, Michael," she greets, and she leans up to kiss him on the cheek. Michael waves at Kurt, who sighs and pretends not to see, and then he looks at Finn. "Hi," he says, "I'm Michael. We haven't met."

_No shit, you asshole._

"That's just Finn," Rachel says quickly, taking Michael's hand. "He's Kurt's step-brother. C'mon. We'll be late for the show." And before anybody can say anything else, she drags her _date_ from the apartment. Finn swallows thickly. The way she spoke, the way she said he's Kurt's step-brother, like that's all he is to her. . . .

"Oh, my _God_," Kurt exclaims.

"I know," Finn says. He likes that Kurt's totally on Team Finn.

"Did you _see_ that sweater? It's so heinous I might have to bleach my _brain_."

* * *

It's probably an invasion of privacy or something, but Finn goes into Rachel's tiny room. It smells overwhelmingly of her. And he closes his eyes for a second and just _smells_ it. Yeah, he's totally a freak for her. He sits on her bed. Her teddy bear stares at him. "Hey, Larry," he says. Who names their teddy bear Larry? Only Rachel, _his_

Rachel.

He lies back on the bed. He thinks about ways to kill Michael. He thinks about which Chicago song to sing. He thinks about how he can make the same fucking mistakes again and again, and he prays that she keeps giving him second chances, that she gives him this one last second chance. (He should probably say he hopes she gives him this, like, _nineteenth_ chance.)

He eventually joins Kurt out in the living room and watches _Hairspray_ with him. A little past eleven, Rachel returns, and she brings Michael into the apartment. Finn tries to shoot rays of searing hatred at him. Rachel looks at Kurt and Finn, then pulls Michael into her room.

"What are they doing in there?" Finn growls.

Kurt yawns. "Painting each other's toenails."

"Seriously?"

"I highly doubt it, but if it makes you feel better, sure."

Kurt has to stop Finn from storming into her bedroom and interrupting them. He can't believe this. He broke up with Rachel 'cause he was too fucking scared that he'd never be good enough — that maybe she'd even break up with him once she realised he couldn't graduate — and now that he's gotten his act together and wants her back, he has to sit in her apartment while she sleeps with some asshole.

Maybe she's not _actually_ sleeping with him. Maybe they're just talking or stuff. Finn strains his ears, but he can't hear anything. Maybe Michael will try to make a move and Rachel will say no and Finn can go in and beat the shit out of him. Finally, after the longest hour in the history of mankind, the door opens, and Rachel walks Michael to the door. He murmurs something to her, kisses her quickly, and leaves.

She turns back to face Kurt and Finn. "What are you doing here?" she asks him coldly.

He stands. He's ready to say a bunch of awesome stuff, maybe even to resort to his letter right away. Instead, all that comes out is a question. "Did you sleep with him?"

"Ooh," Kurt says, making a face. Yeah, Finn really wishes he hadn't just said that. Rachel gapes at him, and then stomps her foot. "You did _not_ just ask me that! That is _none_ of your business!"

And then he realises that the bow around Rachel's dress is undone, and something in him drops. _No. _Just fucking _no. _He won't believe it. "Yes, it is," Finn says. "Did you sleep with him?"

"How dare you!" Rachel shrieks. "How can you just _show up here_, and — ? What reason could you possibly imagine yourself to possess that would allow you to ask me whether or not I decided to sleep with my talented, attractive date?"

"You can't have slept with him," Finn insists. "You can't."

Rachel takes a menacing step towards him. "And why not?" she hisses.

"'Cause you're _mine_!" Finn explodes.

It's quiet. "Funny," Rachel says, actually trembling a little, "you didn't give me that impression when you _dumped_ me for somebody else." Her eyes are glassy.

He blinks. His are too. "I made her up," he whispers.

"Who saw that coming?" Kurt asks, raising his hand. Neither Finn nor Rachel pay him any attention.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the letter. He unfolds it slowly. "Rachel," he reads, "my entire life, I've been so afraid that I'm a loser that I've never tried to prove I'm not, in case maybe I _can't_ prove I'm not. Which is the dumbest thing ever, but it's the truth."

He pauses, risks a glance at her, and then goes back to his letter. He hopes this works. His mom said she really liked it. "In high school, you were the first person that ever made me feel like I wasn't a loser, and you and Glee made me such a better person. You made me actually care about something enough to risk failing.

"But I never really stopped being afraid, even at college. Twice now I've broken up with you 'cause I was a coward, and I know I don't deserve you, I know you shouldn't keep giving me chance, but I can't help it.

"I _need_ you, Rach. I love you. I want to marry you someday. I want have kids with you and raise them Jewish and everything. I'm a computer science major, and it's actually really cool, and I like it and I'm good at it, and I'm doing something I like 'cause of _you_. I'm gonna get out of Lima 'cause of _you._ And even if you won't take me back, I think you should know that you've changed my life."

That's it. That's all he's got. He slowly lowers the letter and looks at her.

She's staring at him, and he _really_ wishes he knew what she was thinking.

"I — I —" She runs into her bedroom and slams the door. And, yeah, that sound? Totally his heart falling and hitting the ground and breaking into ten thousand little pieces. He looks over at Kurt, who's wiping at tears

Well, Finn thinks bitterly, at least _Kurt_ liked it.

Her bedroom door slams open moments after she'd slammed it shut. He looks at her hopefully. "We have two months of junior year left," she says, and he can see her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. But she meets his eyes with a determined gaze. "If, when summer starts, you still want to be with me for _good_, then . . . then okay."

She disappears into her room again.

* * *

He doesn't want to fly back without seeing her again, without talking to her again, without making sure she's really his again, but he has to. She spends all day Saturday artfully avoiding him. (Does she ever even leave her room?) But he _will_ win her back. He catches her in the kitchen on Sunday morning right before he leaves, and she whispers the words a moment before she ducks into her room.

"I didn't sleep with him," she says. "I couldn't."

He returns to Ohio, and he's never been more sure of anything in his life than he is of _them_.

* * *

He's playing foosball with Nick when his phone goes off.

He hasn't heard that Journey ringtone in a long time. He nearly leaps across the room to get to the phone, and, sure enough, it's Rachel calling. "Rach?" he answers.

"Hi Finn," she greets quietly. "How are you?"

"Great. I'm great. How — how are you?"

"Good. I met Daphne Rubin-Vega. She's in _Les Miserables_, and_ Rocky Horror Show_, and —"

"And _Rent_, right? I remember you talking about her," he says.

"Yeah," she replies, and she sounds pleased.

"That's really cool," he says. "What's she like?"

She starts to rave about the actress, and Finn smiles. Somehow they just start talking, like it's last year and everything's right between them, and it makes him miss her so much he _aches_ with it. "I have to head to class," she finally says. "But it was really good to talk to you."

"Yeah, you too," he says. "We should talk more." He holds his breath.

"Definitely."

* * *

At the end of his junior year, his GPA is 3.1. His mom is so excited she starts crying on the phone, and she surprises him when he returns to Lima for the summer with a new x-box. He gives her a big hug, drops his stuff at his house, and then drives over to Rachel's.

Her dads tell him that she flies home in three days.

He comes back three days later and waits on her front steps for her.

When she steps out of her daddy's car, he scrambles to his feet and smiles tentatively at her. And she grins widely, a perfect, toothy Rachel Berry grin, and rushes to him. He hugs her tightly, spins her around, and melts a little at the sound of her laughter.

They have a lot of catching up to do, but they'll manage.

"This is your last chance, Hudson," she tells him lightly. "_Don't_ mess it up."

He won't.

He's not a _complete_ dumbass, you know.

* * *

When Burt takes Finn's mom out dancing on Friday, Rachel and Finn have the house to themselves. He thinks maybe it'll be a little awkward, but it's not. Kissing her, touching her, sliding into her — it's all familiar, it's all like coming home. Afterward, he starts to sing, softly and sweetly, and she nuzzles her nose with his, her face flushed with pleasure.

He can't decide, so he sings both cheesy Chicago songs.

She brushes her fingers lightly across his cheek. "There's my leading man," she whispers.

**tbc**


	4. Chapter 4

_a/n:_ Sorry for the long wait! My weekend was entirely HP-oriented. This is the end of this story, but I'm toying with the idea of writing a legit multi-chapter story that isn't simply made up of several small scenes, so that's probably soon to come (along with ten thousand one-shots). As for this final chapter, I hope you've brought some floss. The fluffiness runs amok in this one. (Oh, and the song they sing is _I Got You, Babe_ by Sonny and Cher.)

* * *

_::senior year::_

_

* * *

_

The talk. A lot. All summer.

It's not bad, really, 'cause they need to talk, and if talking is what she needs from him to make everything right again, then he'll talk. A lot. All summer. They sit at the drive-in and talk instead of watch the movie. They go for ice cream and talk instead of flirt. They go to the lake and talk instead of swim. They sit on her couch and talk instead of watch a movie. They lie in bed and talk instead of undress.

They talk.

They talk about everything they missed in each other's lives in their months apart. They talk about exactly why he broke up with her and how he realised it was a mistake. They talk about how she dealt with the blow and her feelings after he came to New York.

They talk about what they want from the future and from each other. They talk about how much it would cost to live in New York, and whether they want to live together. They talk about the past and the things they never talked about in high school, like _why_ she lied about sleeping with Jesse or _why_ he really broke up with her that first time.

And it turns out that talking? Not really so bad.

Like, sure, there are more enjoyable things he can think to do, especially when the talking turns to screaming or crying to stomping off in anger or annoyance or simple exhaustion. But when the summer ends, he's never felt so close to anybody in his life. And after hashing everything out — literally _everything_ — he's sure of one thing above all else: they can make it.

There's no hit they can't take now.

* * *

There's just something _different_ about senior year.

Like, it's a_ feeling_. Billy says it's a disease they're all catching. Seniors pay attention in class, and they talk about grad school and jobs and the future, and they just seem to _care _so much more about everything. Finn thinks it's kinda cool, but it's still weird.

He wonders if this is what it's gonna be like in the real world. And that's _beyond_ terrifying, the real world. He tells Rachel, and she sighs a little. "It's natural to fear what you haven't yet experienced. The truth is that I'm a little intimidated, too. After all, it'll be the true start of my acting career. What if I — what if I fail?" She finishes in a whisper.

"You won't," he says confidently. "Power of positive thinking, right?"

"That's _right_!" she says, and he can hear the sudden conviction in her voice. "It's important to remember that. Thank you for reminding me, Finn."

"Anytime," he says, hoping she doesn't know just how widely he's grinning.

Maybe different's good.

* * *

"Wait," Rachel says, "so Billy and Nick are both out?"

"Yeah," says Finn, fiddling with the camera again in an attempt to make it point at her face and not the lamp beside her.

"Stop touching it," Rachel reprimands. "You're making it worse."

"You don't know what it's like," he protests, "you've got a built-in camera in your computer." He finally manages to make it point at her, and it's more pointed at her boobs than at her face, but he's really okay with that.

"Well," Rachel says, "maybe if you hadn't dropped your computer and broken it's built-in camera, we wouldn't be having this problem." He grumbles under his breath, but she move on. "What about your new roommate?" she asks. "Is he there?"

"Manuel?" Finn says. "He's at the party, too."

"Sounds like everybody's at this party," Rachel observes.

"Pretty much," Finn replies. He smiles at her. "How was your day?"

"Finn, are you _positive_ none of them will be back for a few hours?"

He frowns, not sure why she cares so much. "Yeah, I'm positive."

And she bites her lip, and there's something in her gaze that make his pants suddenly feel a little tight. Before he can ask what, exactly, is happening, she reaches down to the hem of her shirt, and in one swift motion pulls it up over her head. She has some fancy lacy bra on that shows more than it hides, and he knows she only wears stuff like that when she wants to have sex.

(By the end of senior year at McKinley, Finn was _so_ boss at pressing a hand to her back when they were out and totally being able to feel if she was wearing lace or cotton. He could always tell if he was getting lucky that night or not.)

And that bra she's wearing now. . . . _Fuck_.

"Your turn," she says.

He tears off his shirt as fast as he can. "I love you," he says a little breathlessly.

She smiles smugly. "I know."

* * *

He never really hangs out with Kevin or Bobby anymore, even though they were among his best friends freshmen year. So when they rib him about how he never goes out anymore, he agrees to go to a frat party with them.

They're playing the music so loudly it feel likes the ground is pounding beneath him, they only have Natty Lite, like half the girls are freshmen, and before it's even midnight, somebody ralfs on the beer pong table.

It's totally lame.

He doesn't end up drinking anything at all, but instead he spends the night sitting in a corner with a sophomore girl who's cat died on Tuesday and who's friends have taken her out in a failed attempt to cheer her up. She's actually pretty cool. She shows him the picture of her cat she keeps in her purse, and he shows the picture of Rachel he has in his wallet.

That's kinda lame, too, but it's the _right_ kinda lame.

* * *

That fall, Rachel's cast as Maria in NYU's production of _Sound of Music_.

She's always called that musical her guilty pleasure, and Finn knows she's thrilled to be in it. He's thrilled for her, at least until he's on the phone with her and some random guy starts talking to her and making her laugh and Finn's forgotten. And, he soon learns, that random guy is not so random. He's Blake Baker, and he's Rachel's co-star in the play.

"His voice is absolutely _fabulous_!" Rachel raves. "His performance of _Edelweiss_ leaves me breathless!"

"He can't be_ that_ good," Finn says, disgruntled. "And what sort of name is Blake Baker anyway?"

"I think it has something of a show business ring to it," Rachel replies brightly.

Finn's never actually seen Blake, and he tells himself he's being paranoid for no reason — Rachel would never cheat on him. But it's not Rachel he's worried about, really. It's _Blake_. That's such a douche bag name. He tells Lydia that, and she rolls her eye. "You're such a _guy_. Rachel's had co-stars before, hasn't she?"

"Yeah," Finn says. But that was before _Michael._ Not that she likes Michael, or ever really did — she told him as much over the summer. Still, she first met Michael 'cause he was her co-star.

"Don't worry," Lydia insists.

"I'm not," Finn says. He is. And he's supposed to be _past_ all this. Rachel's only ever been good to him, and every time she's dated someone else — Michael, Jesse, even Puck all those years ago — it's 'cause Finn pushed her into their arms. So he's not gonna go all possessive, jealous boyfriend on her.

He's _not_.

He's just gonna be a really, really good, attentive boyfriend, even all the way far off in Ohio. He texts and calls her constantly, and she's always so happy to talk to him. He even agrees to help her with extra practice. He reads the lyrics for _Sound of Music_ she e-mails him and then sings various parts with her over the phone. (And he simply flicks Billy off when his friend makes faces at him.)

He kind of wants to ask if he's better than Blake. He doesn't, though.

* * *

It's a Thursday when he calls her and someone else picks up. "This is Rachel Berry's phone," the girl says, sounding as bubbly as Rachel usually does.

"Um, this is Rachel Berry's boyfriend?" he replies, confused.

"Oh, hello Finn!" the girl exclaims. "It's Anna. How are you?"

"Hey Anna," he says. He's met Anna before, and he likes her. A very tall girl with white blonde hair and round glasses that always make Finn think of Harry Potter, Anna's one of Rachel's best friends and has been since freshmen year. "Is Rachel okay?"

"She's fine, but she's in the middle of practice."

"I thought practice ended at five," he says.

"Oh, it does, but . . . we've been having some disagreements. Here, listen for yourself."

She puts the cell on speakerphone, and the soft buzz in the background quickly becomes Rachel's familiar voice turned shrill. "You have to give it some _feeling_," Rachel yells. "You have to _mean_ it!"

"I do mean it!" a boy replies angrily. "I'm performing the song _perfectly_!"

"Perfectly?" repeats Rachel. "I _must_ disagree!"

"Rachel," somebody says, sighing.

"No, Professor Kim," Rachel insists. "_Something Good_ is an outpouring of love and of awe at that love, and it requires _more_ than mere perfection of vocal chords. It requires emotion — only _that_ will allow the song to achieve _true_ perfection. Blake's current performance has all the passion of a brick wall."

Finn grins into the phone.

"Maybe we should wrap up for today," the professor says. "And start again tomorrow afternoon."

"No," Rachel says. "We _need_ to practice."

"You're insufferable, has anyone ever told you that?" Blake says. Finn really hopes Rachel chews the dumbass out some more.

"Plenty of people," Rachel replies primly, "all of whom simply could not grasp my need for perfection. Honestly, true stars mean what they sing. How is that a hard concept to understand? My boyfriend sings this song _over the phone _with more feeling than you!"

"Oh, yes," Blake says, "let's sit around and listen to you rave about your boyfriend, 'cause you doing that twenty-four hours a day _never_ gets old. This is stupid. I'm done. I'll see you all tomorrow."

There's more shouting, more reprimands from Rachel and failed intercessions from other students and a professor who doesn't seem any better at handling spats between his students than Mr. Schue ever was. But Finn doesn't really listen to it.

He's got that warm, fuzzy feeling inside him, that feeling of his chest expanding as if a balloon is rising in his chest, that feeling of _fuck yeah_ reverberating in his head. Eventually Rachel picks up the phone and begins to rant to him as she walks back to her apartment, and Finn basks in the sound of her voice.

He knows he's always gonna be _that_ guy, the one who's jealous and possessive and all stay-away-from-_my_-woman. But he'll do his best not to act like it, 'cause he also knows he's got Rachel for keeps. She's definitely got him for good.

"You know," Rachel tells him furiously over the phone, "I should have known Blake wouldn't be able to complement my star talent properly! And _Blake Baker_ is such an ludicrous name."

"Totally."

* * *

He finally goes to a game.

He sits in the stands with Manuel, and he cheers on Billy and all his old football teammates, and he feels so _weird_. He should be out there, should be helping, should be doing something other than just _sitting_ here.

He gets a text from Rachel at half time. _I'm watching the game. It's boring without you on the field. :(_

He laughs a little to himself as he texts her back. _Better get used to it, babe. We're gonna watch lots of OSU football, even in New York._

Barely moments later, she replies. _As long as we're watching together, I suppose I'll survive._

Yeah, he supposes he'll survive, too. He focuses back on the game, and he screams for the team until his throat burns. He was just a fan once, and he can be just a fan again. Plus, there's nothing _just_ about rooting for the Buckeyes.

* * *

When winter break comes, Finn is actually a little freaked.

One of his professors announces at the end of his exam that all the seniors better really enjoy their winter break, 'cause this might be the last time they ever get a whole month off for break. That shocks — and totally scares — Finn. But being back in Lima calms him down. Lima hasn't changed, and Finn has a feeling it won't ever. He doesn't want to spend his life here, but it's nice to know he'll always have a place to come back to.

And then Burt and his mom proudly present him with a brand new truck, all his own, and Finn is pretty sure this is the best Christmas _ever_. Like, he's had his own truck before, but this is so _nice_, and those old trucks always really belonged to his mom.

Rachel assures him that it's very nice, and she lets him drive her out to Crater Lake. (And, yes, they totally have sex in the bed of the truck, and it's amazing.) Lying curled up beside him, she gives him her present. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret.

"Nothing _too_ kinky," she says. She pauses thoughtfully and then says with an air of determined generosity, "Actually, this is your present, and I really shouldn't limit it. Pick whatever you like." It takes him a moment, but he realises he's supposed to pick something out for _her_ to wear _for_ him, and then it's like a forcefrom God comes over him and he _has_ to have sex with her again right then and there.

The only other highlight is when he goes to temple with Rachel. It's a first for him; even after dating for years, even after celebrating Chanukah with her, he's never actually been to temple with her. It's kinda weird, and he feels like he sticks out like a sore thumb, but he knows it means a lot to Rachel that he comes.

Afterward, when everybody goes down to the basement, he heads straight for the snack table. Once he's snagged five cookies and some cider, he looks for Rachel and finds her only to end up eavesdropping on her conversation with some little old lady. "Not Jewish, is he?" the lady asks, frowning. "Any chance he might convert?"

"Finn is very proud of his Christian heritage and beliefs," Rachel tells her.

He is?

"Oh, well, I suppose it doesn't matter," the old woman goes on. "Your children will still be Jewish if you are." Finn's a little confused by that, but he gets that the lady thinks he and Rachel will get married and have children, and that's pretty cool.

When he asks Rachel about it later, she starts going on about "outdated beliefs in matrilineally" and "minding her own business" and "_of course_ our children will be raised in the Jewish faith, as we long ago agreed, but that's none of her concern, is it?"

"You know I can, if you want," he offers.

"Can what?" she asks.

"Convert. Become a Jew. Is it really hard to do?" He hopes not. But he'll do it.

"Oh, Finn," she says, and she kisses him long and hard. "It's actually a very long and complicated process and I would never ask it of you, but to know that you would, Finn —" She kisses him some more, and he really should have suggested this earlier.

All in all, he decides if this is his last really long winter break, he has a pretty good last run.

* * *

"Do you ever feel like you're wishing away your life?"

Finn's Rachel-is-saying-something-you-really-should-listen-to spidey sense starts tingling, and he tears his attention away from the basketball game he and Billy are watching on television. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"I feel as if I'm living entirely for the future," Rachel says, and she sounds a little sad. "And while it's always good to be forward thinking and to set goals for yourself, I think I sometimes tend not to appreciate the here and now."

He isn't really sure what he should say, but he kinda gets what she's talking about.

"It's hard," he offers. He pauses, thinking about it. "Like, you only get to do college once," he says, leaving the living room and going into his empty bedroom with his cell. "But all I want is for college to be over so we can be together again."

"Exactly!" Rachel says. He smiles. He always likes moments like this, when they just so clearly _get_ each other, and that makes everything so much better.

After a moment, Rachel takes a deep breath and then speaks with an air of determination to her words. "You know, the future will come when it comes," she says, "and we really ought to enjoy our life to its fullest every single day."

"Have you been collecting fortune cookie messages again?" Finn asks, smirking.

"There is _nothing_ wrong with collecting fortune cookie messages," Rachel tells him. "They are both inspirational and instructive. But never mind that. Promise me, Finn, promise me you'll experience everything you can of your final semester at college, and I'll do the same, and in the future we'll both be able to look back on our college experiences and have absolutely no regrets."

"I promise," he says. It's quiet for a moment.

"You should still miss me, though," Rachel adds.

He smiles into the phone. "Don't worry, Rach. That's not something I can really change."

* * *

One by one, he starts to hear about everybody's plans.

Mike is gonna go to grad school for biology. Who would have thought?

Brittany has a job at _J. Crew_, and she's up for position as assistant manager.

Santana is applying to _medical school_. That's definitely a shock. But, Finn supposes, of all the bad things people said and thought about Santana, nobody ever called her stupid. He thinks she'll probably be a really scary doctor, though.

Artie has an internship at a newspaper, and he plans to get a job there.

Quinn's volunteers at this Crisis Pregnancy Center, where girls who don't want an abortion can go for help (that's how Rachel explains it, anyway), and she's already been offered a job there after she graduates.

Puck is going to work for Burt, like get paid with benefits and everything.

It's weird, Finn thinks, to hear about all his old high school friends entering the real world, 'cause, really, the last time he spent any extended time with them, they were all just kids. He can see Billy and Eric and Nick as adults, but the old Glee club members . . . it's just different. But, just like Finn's grown up since high school, so have they.

Like, Tina's studying abroad in _Europe _and wants to work for the State Department. That's so cool and just . . . they're real adults now. It's so awesome, and it's also freakin' terrifying.

(Especially 'cause Finn still has no idea what _he_ wants to do next.)

* * *

Rachel calls him in a panic, and he can barely hear her through her tears.

He gets it out of her eventually: she has tonsillitis, _again_, and the doctors say there's a good chance she'll lose her voice if she _doesn't_ have the surgery to remove her tonsils. The longer she waits, the doctor warns, the harder recovery will be and the greater chance that it can change her voice.

Finn tries to calm her down, tries to assure her that nothing bad will happen and she'll have the surgery and it'll all be okay. "But what if I lose my voice? I know that I'm a person beyond my voice and that I'll survive — but I _love_ my voice!"

"You won't lose it," he says.

"You don't know that!" she cries, and nothing he can say is enough.

She eventually agrees to have the surgery, however, after her dads, Anna, Kurt, and Finn all prod her into it. Anna and Kurt promise to help Rachel rehearse her part after she recovers to make up for time lost. Her dads both fly up for the surgery, and they agree to pay for Finn to fly up the weekend after. (Honestly, those two spoil her _rotten_, but if he benefits from it, Finn's not gonna complain.)

She gets the surgery on a Thursday, and Finn actually grows a little worried as he sits in his apartment. Like, surgery's a big deal. He goes online, and he starts freaking out, 'cause there's all this stuff about too much blood and infections that can go really bad and when they give you the gas stuff to put you under it can sometimes backfire and —

"And giant flying monkeys could come storming into the hospital and attack Rachel as she lies helplessly in bed," says Kurt over the phone. "Calm down. I thought you were all for the surgery."

"I was, I mean, I _am_, but —"

Kurt then spends the evening calming Finn down, and throughout the week he updates Finn on her condition. "She's fine," he assures. "She even left the hospital, and her dads are hovering around the apartment driving me _crazy_. I now entirely understand where she got her _terrible_ fashion sense from. The other day I saw the one with glasses wearing a _purple and green polka-dot sweater vest_. The fashion world wept at that sweater's creation."

"Why won't she pick up the phone when I call, then?" Finn demands.

"Probably because it won't do either of you any good," Kurt says, sighing. "She won't talk."

Finn frowns. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she refuses to _talk_. She won't say a word, which is less exciting than I would have thought. I find my life oddly empty without her incessant chatter buzzing in the background. And, oh, the worse part — her dads bought her a _bell_."

Finn finally takes a plane up there a week later on Friday night.

He finds Rachel lying in bed, wearing her pink pyjamas (the cute ones with the little gold stars all over them), and surrounded by half-eaten bowls of ice cream and pudding, mountains of tissues, and three hundred books and magazines.

"Hey," he greets softly. "How's your throat?"

She bursts into tears and scrambles from bed to throw herself at him.

It's gonna be a long weekend.

* * *

"You have to talk eventually," he tells her.

She scribbles something on her whiteboard with a sparkly pink dry erase board marker and displays it. _Eventually isn't today_ it reads. He sighs. "C'mon, Rach. This isn't very mature." She narrows her eyes at him and then writes something furiously on the board.

_I realise my petulant attitude is unbecoming, but I can't help it_, _and I would greatly appreciate my boyfriend's support in this dire time in my life_.

"You'd never let me get away with this," he says.

_But you're a better person than I am_.

He laughs a little at that, at how determined she looks to keep her silence. He hadn't quite believed that she'd gone all this time since her surgery without saying a word, 'cause let's face it — the girl loves to talk. But he's not having so much trouble believing it now. And he has to snap her out of it. A Rachel who doesn't talk is like a grilled cheese sandwich that doesn't have cheese, which is just toast, and why would he would want toast when he could have grilled cheese?

"You know," he says nonchalantly, "on the ride from the airport, Kurt said that Vicki Lewis's performance in the reprisal of _I Can Get It for You Wholesale_ surpassed the original performance by Barbra Streisand."

Rachel gasps, and Finn bites back a grin. Her hand and pink pen fly across the whiteboard, and she shoves it at him moments later. He only reads the start — _Tell Kurt that Barbra's performance as Miss Marmelstein at only nineteen was so sensational that _— before he looks at her and shakes his head. "Tell him yourself," he says.

She purses her lips, grabs the whiteboard from him, and writes another message.

_He refuses to read my whiteboard messages_.

"Then maybe you should just tell him, you know, with actual words out loud."

She grinds her teeth, wipes the whiteboard completely clean, and writes in large letters _No!_ She underlines it several times and even makes the dot of her exclamation point a little star. "Aw, c'mon," Finn encourages. "Your voice'll sound just as good. It's been over a week. You're all better now."

She merely crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him.

He sighs. "C'mon, baby," he pushes. "Are you really never gonna talk again? Are you never gonna tell me you love me again?" He looks at her with large, pathetic eyes, the kind that always melts her the way her pouty lips always manage to melt him.

Her shoulders sink a little. She writes something on her whiteboard and passes it gently to him. His heart rises up in his throat when he reads it, and he looks at her to see her literally chewing nervously on her lip as she waits for his reaction. How can she even ask that?

_Will you still love me if I can't sing anymore? Because I can stand to lose my voice, but I can't stand to lose you_.

"Sorry, Rach," he says softly, "you're stuck with me, voice or no. You can carry around a whiteboard for the rest of your life, and when we're fifty I'll still be beside you, reading your messages and buying you more dry erase markers when you need 'em." He brushes his knuckles gently across her cheek.

_Promise?_ she writes. He holds out his pinky; she smiles sweetly and hooks her pinky around it. "So are you gonna talk now?" he asks eagerly. She sighs, ever put upon, and writes out yet another message. _Nope._

He groans.

* * *

He finds the lyrics online.

He can't stand this anymore. He needs to hear her voice. He memorises both parts but prints off a copy for her, and then he has Kurt help him download a version of the song without any words, 'cause he and Rachel (dammit, he'll _make_ her) are gonna be the ones to sing the words.

She smiles brightly as he comes into her room, but her smile falters as he drops the sheet music on her lap and sets up his laptop. He turns the song on, and her eyes go wide as she looks back and forth between the sheet music and Finn.

When she doesn't start to sing, he takes her part._ "They say we're young and we don't know, / We won't find out until we grow_," he croons softly. _"Well, I don't know if all that's true, / 'Cause you got me, and baby, I got you."_

She watches him carefully, and he doesn't know what she's thinking, but he goes on. _"Babe, I got you, babe, / I got you, babe. . . ."_

And slowly, softly, her voice barely more than a whisper, she sings her part. _"They say our love won't pay the rent, / Before it's earned, our money's all been spent."_

He grins and belts out the words. _"I guess that's so, we don't have a pot. / But at least I'm sure of all the things we got. / Babe, I got you, babe, / I got you, babe. / I got flowers in the spring, I got you to wear my ring."_

She's smiling now, and her voice lifts slightly. He can hear how much she means the words, and he might have picked this song 'cause it's how he feels about her, but to know, to _hear,_ that she feels the same makes his heart race a little.

_"And when I'm sad, you're a clown,"_ she sings, _"And if I get scared, you're always around. / So let them say your hair's too long __—"_ She reaches out playfully and ruffles his hair. _"—__'Cause I don't care, with you I can't go wrong."_

He takes both her hands in his. _"Then put your little hand in mine. / There ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb." _Tears start to bead in her eyes as they both sing the short chorus. _"Babe, I got you, babe, / I got you, babe. . . ."_ He pulls her up onto her knees on the bed so her face is level with his.

_"I got you to hold my hand," _he sings.

_"I got you to understand,"_ she sings, and her voice is finally loud and proud and so very Rachel Berry. He grips her waist and picks her up, twirling her off the bed.

_"I got you to walk with me." _They spin around the room, silly and happy, like they're prancing around the old Glee choir room again.

_"I got you to talk with me."_

_"I got you to kiss goodnight." _He hoists her up and her legs come around his waist.

_"I got you to hold me tight."_ Her hands grip his shoulders.

_"I got you,"_ he says, his voice breaking a little as he goes on, _"I won't let go."_

_"I got you to love me so,"_ she says, and he can't help but sing that part, too. _"I got you, babe,"_ they sing, and then the song goes on without them, because she kisses him, and if there's one thing better than the feel of his voice singing with Rachel's, it's his lips pressed to hers.

* * *

In March, he goes to talk to Professor Yates.

"So, I'm moving to New York after graduation," he explains. "I mean, I'm gonna go back to Lima for a weeks to hang with my mom and stepdad. But then I'm moving to New York. So, if I want get a job there, do I, like, have to start applying now?"

"Well," she says, "it's always good to start planning ahead of time, but it's rather difficult to start applying for a job in a state you don't actually live in."

He was afraid of that. "So what do I do?" he asks.

"There are a lot of things you can do," she says, smiling encouragingly. "Do you have a reseme already? If not, you should start to put one together. I can help you, if you like. And the Career Center gives practice interviews, if you want to try that. It's pretty helpful, actually. And you can do a little research, too, and think about the sort of job you might want to apply for once you get to New York."

He nods. Okay. He can do all that.

"Do you have an idea what job you might like?"

He shrugs. "I don't know," he says. "Something with computers. Or music. Or both. That'd be really cool. But there's probably nothing like that. I just want _something_, you know? I mean, I wanna make money so that if it takes Rachel a few years to get a good job performing, then I can support her and stuff until then."

Professor Yates nods. "Okay, then. Go by the Career Center when you have a chance and schedule a practice interview for yourself. As for a resume, you need to gather all the information you have on jobs you've had and awards you've won. Find everything you can, and then e-mail me, and we can meet and start to put it all together. Sound good?"

"Sounds great."

* * *

He keeps missing her a lot.

Even thought they've had years of handling this long-distance thing, and even though he knows it's all coming to a close soon, he can't help himself. He loves her, and she loves him, and they're in separate states, and that just plain _sucks_.

So, yeah, for the record, he still misses her.

* * *

They've only got about two weeks left of senior year when Billy asks casually, "When did you and Rachel first get together?" He doesn't talk his eyes off the screen.

It's a Saturday afternoon, they've already got a few beers under their belts, and they're sitting in the living room marathoning on the xbox. And Billy wants to talk about Rachel? "Like in high school?" Finn asks. "We got together for real at the end of sophomore year."

Billy doesn't reply right away, and Finn starts to think maybe he imagined the whole small exchange. Neither of them have even taken their eyes off the television screen and the video game, even. Then, still nonchalant, Billy says, "You're, like, totally head-up-your-ass in love with her, right?"

"Yeah," Finn says slowly.

"When did you first know?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "Why?"

Billy shrugs, too. "Just . . . it's just . . . you're pretty much the only dude I know who's legit in love and everything, and I just . . . _how_ do you know? Like, when does one girl suddenly become better than tons?"

Finn thinks about it. He glances at Billy. "Is this about Lydia?"

"No. Never mind, dude."

It's quiet again, except for the son of the machine gun on the video game. "I guess," Finn finally says, "I guess you know one's worth more than tons when you're watching porn and all the girls faces start, you know, looking like hers, and when you start jerking off and thinking of her makes you come harder than thinking of, like, Angelina Jolie. That's when you start to know."

Billy doesn't say anything, so Finn goes on. "And when something really awesome happens, you just gotta tell her before anybody else. And when something suck-y happens, you wanna tell her that, too, 'cause she can make you cookies and rub your back and make you feel all better. And you don't mind doing stupid stuff if it makes her happy, and she never treats you like you're stupid." Finn smiles at his explanation.

"You know you love somebody when her crazy becomes cute," he finally finishes, "and you miss it when she's not around."

"Dude," Billy says, "that's just you and your girlfriend."

"So you're saying you don't think it's cute when Lydia stats crying all over _Star Magazine_ 'cause some singer broke up with some actress?"

"Fuck you, man," says Billy.

Finn only grins.

They never do stop playing the video game, not for another few hours.

* * *

He graduates on a Friday morning.

Rachel and Kurt both fly down for the graduation, and his mom and Burt drive up from Lima. The ceremony goes by really fast, and then they all go out to this big fancy lunch afterward with Billy and Lydia and their parents. And then he's a _college graduate_. That's so unbelievable.

That same afternoon, Finn's mom, Burt, Rachel, Kurt, and Finn pile into two cars and drive all the way up to New York. It takes, like, nine hours. But they make it in plenty of time for Rachel and Kurt's graduation on Saturday afternoon.

When they call her name, Finn pulls off his jacket, and he stands and whoops and shouts. Rachel glances across the field and, he knows she catches sight of him, because she beams suddenly at him and at, he's pretty sure, his t-shirt, blue with the words _Team Rachel _written on it in gold sharpie. It's not as fancy as her _Team Finn_ shirt back in high school, but he's pretty proud of it.

And, just like that, by Saturday night, they're both college graduates.

* * *

It's actually all because of Mr. Schue.

Glee gets together the first week of June, and afterward Mr. Schue takes Finn out to dinner. It's been a long time since Finn's spent actual time with his old mentor, and Mr. Schue is totally as cool as ever. They start talking about Finn's future, and New York, and suddenly Mr. Schue is talking about making phone calls.

"I have some friends in New York," he says. Finn's not really sure what's going on, but three days later Mr. Schue calls to tell him he has an interview at a high school on the edge of New York city that needs another computer tech guy.

"My old college buddy Jake is a math teacher there. He says the school's desperate for somebody to help the one tech guy they have, who doesn't even really know what he's doing to begin with. And," Mr. Schue adds, clearly excited, "the school's old choir master retired a few years ago. Jake says the school would definitely be interested in starting a Glee club if there were somebody willing to run it for free."

Finn isn't so sure that it could all work out so well, but it's worth a shot, right?

(And could he really run a Glee club? He'd totally have to hire a choreographer. Or make Rachel do it.)

He and Rachel drive to New York with all their worldly possessions a week later, and a week and a half later, Finn gets the job. He can't believe it, but Rachel can, and she dances around squealing in delight for hours afterward. Finn just thanks Grilled Cheesus that Mr. Schue was ever desperate enough to plant pot in Finn's locker and totally change his world _— _in more ways than one.

* * *

The fire escape in the apartment they get in New York serves as a kind of balcony.

This apartment is slightly bigger than Kurt and Rachel's old apartment, but with three people to pay rent instead of two, they can afford it. They finally finish moving in on a Wednesday. Kurt goes out with some friends, but Finn and Rachel stay in.

Finn drags out two old camping chairs to the small balcony and Rachel brings a bottle of cheap wine from the grocery store and two glasses. She ends up sitting in Finn's lap rather than in her own chair, but he really doesn't complain.

She uncorks the bottle, pours them each a glass, and raises hers. "What should we toast to?"

He considers her. And, like he has so many times in the past few weeks, he thinks about the last four years, kind of just sees it all in his head, and then he just sees her, so close to him_,_ and he thinks about what happens next. He thinks about his working late and her countless auditions and an engagement ring he won't be able to afford and marriage and babies.

"To finishing college," he says, raising his glass, "and to what comes next."

She clinks her glass to his, her smile soft. College was full of awesome.

But what comes next?

It's totally gonna be filled with so much _more_ awesomeness.

**Fin.**

_"I get so tired when I have to explain,_

_When you're so far away from me._

_See you been in the sun, and I've been in the rain, _

_And you're so far away from me._

_So far away from me,_

_So far I just can't see,_

_So far away from me._

_You're so far away from me."_


End file.
